


A New Me, A New You

by ncsupnatfan



Series: Powers [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Family Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Supernatural Elements, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29045472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncsupnatfan/pseuds/ncsupnatfan
Summary: The story starts at the end of Season 3, the deal cannot be broken, and Dean is dragged to Hell by the hellhounds.  After years of being tortured, Dean has almost given up hope when an unlikely source helps him escape.  He searches for his brother to find he is going down a dark path.  Both have changed and will need to learn to be brothers once again and accept what happened to them.
Series: Powers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130885
Comments: 24
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello dear readers I am back with a new trilogy for your reading pleasure. There are old and new characters throughout the stories, and we explore a different AU. The brothers face different and difficult obstacles as they work on being brothers again. Thank you for coming along on another journey with me and I hope you enjoy it. I would like to thank VegasGranny for her continued support and insight to help make this a better story. I do like comments, please leave one.**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own SPN and this story is my own creation. Any errors are my own.**

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**Chapter 1**

He can hear them outside the house, howling and gnashing their teeth as he stares at his brother knowing this is it for him. His year is up, and they found no way to break the deal he had made to save his brother’s life. Dean sees too late that Lilith has possessed the meatsuit Ruby was wearing. 

“It’s not her,” Dean cries out as Sam is thrown against the wall and pinned there. His only thought is to protect Sam until his dying breath. He does not know what to do to help him, so with a determined look, he zeroed in on Lilith to stomp her way until she opens the door to the study and the hellhounds rush in. 

Dean can see their huge, bodies and misshapen forms as they focused in on him and attacked. He can feel their claws dig deeply through his clothes and skin as they raked down his body, sending unspeakable pain through every nerve ending and his blood sprayed everywhere. He screamed, but nothing passed his lips as his soul was ripped from his body to be carried to Hell. Dean’s body grew still and cold as the last of his life’s blood seeped from his ravaged body and the last of his breath escaped from his slightly parted lips.

Sam can only watch in horror as his brother is taken from him and expects to be killed next, but when Lilith tried, he remained alive and untouched. With only the need to revenge his brother’s death in his mind, Sam feels her hold on him drop and he raises his hand and glares at her with hate filled eyes. As he starts to use his powers, Lilith smokes out of the meatsuit and disappears into the night.

With nothing left to do, Sam drops beside Dean’s ravaged body and pulls him into his embrace as he weeps in despair, grief, and loss. He had vowed to stop this from happening but had failed. He had failed his brother. The guilt was devouring him, and Sam had never felt this alone in his life. He began to rock back and forth with Dean still clutched in his arms as he shut the rest of the world out. He never acknowledged the older hunter that joined him in the room and stood by his side allowing him his time to grieve.

**spn**

The lower realm of Hell moved on a different plane of time and space than the upper world. The pits of Hell are filled with the screams and wails of tortured souls that never stopped. When a soul enters Hell, their spirit becomes corporal that will allow them to be tortured for eternity.

When Dean’s soul was ripped from his body by the hellhounds, all things ceased to exist for him. He was in a state of limbo until he awoke in his body hanging from chains in Hell. The sharp hooks dug into his flesh causing intense pain that took his breath away. When he could finally pull air into his lungs, Dean cried out in a hoarse, strained voice for his brother.

“Sam! Sam!” Dean’s raw voice echoed around him. Bloody chains hung around him that moved with his struggles, only making the hooks dig deeper into his chest and shoulders. He looked below him seeing nothing but darkness. Streaks of intense pain shot through his body like nothing he had ever felt before. He could feel tendons and muscles tearing as the hooks scrapped against bones, and the weight of his body pulled heavily against them. There was nothing he could do to stop the hooks on one side of his body from pulling free to leave him dangling as his numb, useless arm hung limply at his side. Dean cried out, but only a weak groan of agony passed his lips. He did not get a breath before the other hooks gave way, plunging him into the black abyss. 

Nothing could be seen around Dean as he tumbled uncontrollably until suddenly, he collided with a stone floor breaking most of the bones in his body. Dean coughed up blood as he wheezed a short breath before his heart stopped and he died for a second time.

**spn**

Dean sucked in a sharp breath as he opened his eyes and blinked rapidly trying to see where he was. The floor was cold and hard, and it took him a moment to push himself up to a sitting position. He was in a small cell with nothing in it. What clothes he had on were torn, bloody, and ragged, and did not do much to keep him warm. Dean’s body began to shiver from the cold as he folded in on himself trying to hold what warmth he could inside of him. He always thought that Hell would be a scorching, unbearable hot place, not freezing and bone numbing like he was feeling.

How was he alive, was the question? Dean knew his body had be torn by the hooks and bones broken beyond repair when he hit the floor. He knew he had died from the fall, but he could not feel any injuries on his body. Before he could get comfortable in any way, the door was suddenly opened and two large goons with black eyes stepped into the room. They jerked Dean up between them and drug him from the room and down the hall.

Dean felt himself being lifted and could not get his feet under him as he was moved from the room. Bright light blinded him at first and he felt his body being laid on a rack of some kind. His wrists and ankles were strapped down, and the bindings pulled tight to hold him in place. His arms were stretched out from his side forming a T. After the demons left him alone, Dean jerked on the straps trying to loosen them but only made them tighter. He stopped struggling and tried to catch his breath while willing his trembling to stop. He looked around the room and saw a table off to the side but could not make out what was on it.

Time ticked away and still no one came into the room with Dean. He did not know how long he lay there waiting, wondering, what would be in store for him next. He felt no need for food or drink nor desire for sleep or other bodily functions as he tried to make his mind stop racing. He knew this was coming and tried to prepare himself for it, but nothing he ever imagined could do that. Demons were evil, ruthless, diabolical, merciless, and all they wanted to do was torture the poor souls who ended up down here.

Dean’s hands and feet grew numb from absence of blood flow and were starting to feel uncomfortable. He tried to bend his fingers but could not make them obey his command. He was beginning to wonder if he had been forgotten and this was his punishment, to lay strapped to a rack with no contact for eternity as his body slowly rotted away. 

**spn**

Footsteps caught Dean’s attention as they drew closer. He tried to turn his head so he could see but could not crane his neck enough. Finally, a man came into view as he stopped beside the rack to look down on Dean’s prone form. He studied him for a moment as if contemplating why he was here and what he should do with him.

“Well, well, another Winchester in our realm,” he spoke in a calm, almost mocking tone. 

Dean glared at the demon, he knew he was a demon, everyone was around here. He clenched his jaw not willing to show his fear. 

“Let’s see…” the demon mulled for a moment as he turned to the table and looked over what was lying on it. He ran his fingers over a couple of things before picking up a double-edged knife and testing the sharpness. He turned back to Dean and ran the knife down the middle of his chest, splitting his shirt and leaving a trail of blood that trickled down the sides of his body. He flicked the material away to expose his bare chest. 

Dean sucked in a sharp breath as he felt the knife’s blade slice into his skin down to the bone but did not make a sound. He would not give the demon the satisfaction of hearing him cry out with pain. The knife bit into his skin again, as the demon began to peel his skin from his chest, filleting it like a fish. The pain was excruciating, and Dean was sure his jaw was going to break as he ground down and pressed his lips tightly together. He could feel the warm trails of blood that ran down his side and jerked on the bindings that held him trying to pull free.

“Since this is your first time on the rack, let’s see what fun we can have,” he laughed seeing the tortured expression on Dean’s face.

“Go to hell,” Dean gritted out between clenched teeth. His breath was coming in short gasps now.

“Funny, since we’re already here.” The demon plunged the knife into his stomach and jerked it across the flesh, flaying it open. He ripped upward and cut through his ribs exposing his beating heart only for a moment before taking his hand to rip it from his chest.

Dean’s eyes fluttered for a moment before staying closed as his last breath was expelled and he died once again.

“Don’t worry, next time we’ll make your time last longer.” The demon wiped the knife blade across Dean’s jeans to clean it before dropping it on the table and turning to walk away. “I’ll be seeing you again soon.”

As the life left Dean’s eyes and they had glazed over, he heard and felt nothing more. Darkness surrounded him and he seemed to float in a world of nothingness, no awareness to anything. He did not know how long he stayed like this until his lungs filled with air and he coughed out a breath, trying to open his eyes. The brightness of the room made them water and hurt as he tried to turn his head against the glare. Dean looked down at his body and saw it was whole once again with no scars or wounds marring it. Hell would not let you die, that was too easy.

He dropped his head back on the rack and fought the tears and anguish that rolled inside his mind. Dean could not sort his jumbled mind as he fought to gain control of his emotions again. He did not know how long he would have to wait before the demon came back and his torture would begin again. He knew there was no way out of this for him. Sam could not break into Hell to save him; he was trapped here, and the only way out was if he found it. He would have to endure and fight with all he had to keep from going insane and giving up. Deep down in the far reaches of his mind there was still a sliver of hope that he hung onto. 

He would survive. He had to survive. He was a Winchester.


	2. Chapter 2

Sleep could not come, but Dean let his thoughts wonder as he waited for the demon to return and begin torturing him again. He tried to count the minutes, the hours, but lost track of where he was and gave it up. Muffled screams made their way into the room and Dean knew his fate was the fate of so many souls that died or made deals. Most definitely belonged here, but there were others he was sure did not. Each wail grated on his nerves, making him twitch and tense knowing it would not be long before he was one of the tortured ones.

There was no way of knowing if it was night or day in the windowless room. Dean remained strapped to the rack endlessly waiting which was almost worse than the torture itself. A different demon came back, and he was more creative than the other one.

The first thing he did was blind Dean so he could not see what was happening. Dean flinched and jerked and grunted in pain as his fingernails were ripped from his fingers and then were broken one by one, his toes were cut off, and sharp spikes were jammed into his body, missing vital organs so he did not die too quickly from the wounds. He felt a knife nicking him as his jeans were cut away and then his briefs leaving him naked and bleeding on the rack.

Dean could not help himself when he cried out with the pain as his kneecaps and ankles were broken with a large hammer. The demon proceeded to break the bones in his arms and then went to work on his ribs and started to smash his head but saw Dean had already died. He removed the straps holding the ravaged body and let it slide to the floor in a pool of blood.

“George, clean up on aisle two,” the demon yelled through the door. “This one needs hosing down for the next time.” With a disgusted snort, he left the room to attend to other matters and other souls to torture.

**spn**

Hours later, consciousness came slowly back to Dean as the curtain of darkness fell away. He did not know what happened to him when he died, it was blankness and no sense of being until Hell remade his body and he woke. He winched and opened his eyes into slits as he looked at the bloodstained floor he was laying on. He could tell his body was back in one piece again but did not have the energy to try and get up. Tears welled in his eyes as he forced his mind not to think about what he had gone through. He had to be strong. He had to think. There had to be a way out of this hell hole; he just needed to find it.

Dean finally pushed himself up to a sitting position to find he was still naked and covered in streaks of dried blood. He looked to the table sitting across the room and tried to stand but his legs would not support him. He started to crawl toward it hoping maybe to get a weapon that he could defend himself with. Before he could reach up to grab the edge of the table to hoist himself up, strong hands grabbed him from behind and threw him back against the wall. Dean collided with a hard thump against the concrete wall, almost knocking him unconscious.

“Now, now, can’t have you playing with sharp objects,” the demon sneered. He took his time walking over to Dean and grabbed a wrist and pulled it upward, bringing Dean’s body with it. A metal cuff at the end of a chain was locked around his wrist and the demon did the same with the other. He went to the wall and cranked the chain higher, pulling Dean upward until he was on the balls of his feet, swinging slightly in the air. “There, I’ll be back to have a little fun.”

“Screw you!” Dean replied with as much venom in his voice as he could muster as he glared at the demon with hatred and wanting to kill him.

“Don’t worry, there are ones who’ll be happy to do that to you until you beg for them to stop, give it time, you pathetic weakling,” he laughed before leaving him hanging.

Dean bit back his response and tried to steady his body to keep it from swinging and putting more stress on his arms. He grunted in pain as his foot cramped and tried to stand on one foot to relieve the tight muscle in his other foot. He could only hold it for a moment before pressing it back to the floor.

After hours of hanging there, it felt like Dean’s shoulders were coming out of their sockets. He tried to move them and pulled up on the chain with his hands but could not hold it long. His head jerked around when he heard noises behind him.

“Well, well, another Winchester to have fun with,” a deep voice spoke as a new demon came into view. “I had the pleasure of working on your father while he was down here. Oh, how he would beg for it to end,” he laughed. “Let’s see how you hold up.”

Dean did not answer him as he twisted enough to try and see him. He arched forward and sucked in a sharp breath as the leather ends of a whip bit into his back breaking his skin. Before he could get a breath, the whip landed again sending shock waves down his body as his other pains were forgotten. His back was torn to shreds with each strike, making blood run down over his bottom and legs to pool at his feet. Dean was almost to the point of passing out when a bucket of ice cold water was tossed in his face bringing him back.

“There you are! Can’t have you checking out on me yet. You’re as tough as your old man, right?” The demon suddenly backhanded him, snapping his head to the side, splitting his lip, and making his nose bleed. He picked up a straight edge razor and opened it, checking the sharpness on his finger. With a swift, strong stroke, he cut into his chest until he severed Dean’s jugular artery in his neck and watched him bleed out in mere seconds. His body hung limply as he breathed his last.

“Playtime is over,” he shrugged dropping the blade back onto the table and walking away. “See you tomorrow.”

**spn**

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into years as each day started with torture and ended the same, with Dean’s death. The past year was different for some reason. The demons would leave him alive, broken and bleeding for days so he would suffer more. There were times he would drown in his own blood or succumb to his injuries without the demons killing him. 

Dean’s body was tortured in every way that was possible, trying to wear him down, and make him ready for their boss. He needed something from Dean and wanted him pliable when he made his play. Alastair waited until Dean was in Hell and had been tortured for ten years by his other minions before he made an appearance.

“Hello Dean,” a soft spoken man greeted him.

Dean barely looked at him through half opened eyes but did not respond. He had been strapped to the rack once again. He could feel his resistance starting to give way and seemed to feel a change happening in him, in the deep recesses of his soul. He still fought hard to keep his sanity through all his suffering. He would not give up. He kept telling himself there was a way out of here, he just needed to find it. Dean had learned to go to a safe place inside his mind when the demons started their endless torture on his body. He would go to a beach and sit in the sand to watch the waves lap at the shoreline and the sun to slowly sink toward the horizon. He would stay there until he died in real life and would suddenly be swept away into darkness until he awoke once again.

Alastair walked around the rack observing Dean for several minutes before stopping at his side.

“I just wanted to congratulate you,” he started. “Today, you have been our guest for ten years.” He watched Dean’s response to his statement and smirked when he saw the disbelief in his eyes. “I thought I would give you a choice today Dean. One I think you will like. You can come down off the rack and not be tortured anymore…You will only have to do one thing…” he paused letting what he said sink in. “Just pick up a knife and torture a soul. Simple, something I think you will excel at…Given a little time. You could be my best apprentice yet. Look deep inside of yourself Dean, see who you really are…”

Dean’s eyes widened in shock as he let what the demon was saying penetrate his muddled mind. His torture would stop if he would do this to another soul. How could this demon ever thing that he would do that after all he had been subjected to by the demons the past ten years. To do that would make him a monster and he would not let himself become that.

“Never!” Dean gasped as loud as he could. “Never, you black eyed bastard!”

“It’s your choice Dean. I had hoped for more from you. Shall we begin?” Alastair sighed turning to the table to look over the weapons. He picked up several different ones before deciding on an odd shaped blade. He turned back to Dean and let his eyes roam over his body. “Oh, and my eyes are not black,” he offered as his eyes turned white.

Dean frowned and blinked rapidly to be sure he was seeing things right. He had not seen a white eyed demon before and was not sure what to make of it. Did that mean this one was stronger than the others or superior to them?

“I do like a clean canvas; where should I begin?” The knife buried into Dean’s chest deflating his lung and making him begin to wheeze. It was twisted back and forth several times before being pulled out. Alastair stuck the tip of the knife into Dean’s bicep and ran it slowly down the underside of his arm to his wrist leaving a trail of blood. He continued to carve into his skin and strip it from Dean’s body, piece by piece. He sneered happily when Dean grunted and clenched his jaw trying to keep from crying out from the immense pain radiating through his entire body. “It was fun, but I have other commitments I must see to. I will see you again tomorrow Dean. Oh, I have a few surprises in store for you.” Alastair took the knife and nicked Dean’s artery so he would slowly bleed out. He tossed the knife on the table and strolled away as he pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and wiped his hands.

It was not long before Dean wheezed one final time and died once again as he had nearly every day over the past ten years.

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**A/N: Ten years have passed in Hell and Dean is trying to hold on to the small piece of humanity he has left. Thank you for taking this journey with me. I hope you enjoyed the read. Comments would make my day. NC**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: We find out who is going to be helping Dean in this chapter. I think you can guess who. Thanks for taking the journey with me. Comments do make my day. NC**

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Sometime after his death and before he revived again, Dean had been washed down of most of the blood coating his body. When he woke, Dean felt a slight chill, but was never really cold or hot anymore. It was like his body had learned to adapt and adjust to this atmosphere. He tugged on his bindings again to see they were still secure and not giving any. He lay on the cold rack and waited for the latest demon that would torture him to make an appearance.

Time meant nothing to him any longer as he just moved from life to death repeatedly. It got to the point dying did not mean anything to him, like it was a normal routine now. Dean wondered now and then what Sam was doing up above and if he was still alive. Ten years was a long time and if he continued to hunt alone, his life might have been cut short. He did not think Sam would end up down here with him if he died, at least he hoped not. That would be too much for him to handle. If he had to say yes to protect his brother, he would. Even in the situation he was in, his brother’s safety was top priority.

He had no way of knowing that the passing of time was different in Hell than on Earth. What was ten years for him was only a month for Sam who was fighting his own demons and trying to come to terms with the loss of his brother. Things were not going well for Sam and the path he was going down was a dark and dangerous one.

He mulled over the white eyed demon and tried to figure out why it was so important to him for Dean to say yes to his only question. What would he gain if he started torturing souls here in Hell? Did everyone get this offer or was it only reserved for special souls? He twitched his nose as an itch started that he could not scratch and that was about as bad as the torture. 

Alastair kept returning after each resurrection and would ask one simple question. If Dean wanted the torturing to stop, all he needed to do was agree to start torturing souls. Dean would refuse every time but as the years passed and his body died and came back so many times, he lost count as it took a toil on him. His soul was cracking, and his mind was starting to break down. Twenty years passed with Alastair celebrating by regaling Dean with stories of all the things he had done to his father as he carved his body up day after day.

**spn**

Thirty years had passed, and Alastair praised him on his endurance. He told Dean about his father being on the same rack and being given the same choice. Alastair droned on about the suffering and pain he had endured and then got angry and hostile when he told of John’s escape from Hell without breaking. That was a bad day for Dean since Alastair took all his anger out on him and left him in pieces on the floor around the rack. Coming back from that death took twice as long as any of the others and seemed to weigh heavily on him. Dean did not know how much longer he was going to be able to hold on before going completely insane. The cracks were getting larger and with no hope for rescue, the spark of humanity dimmed more and more.

“So, Dean, have you changed your mind yet?” Alastair asked stepping into the room and looking at the young hunter strapped to the rack. 

“Go jump in a pool of holy water asshole,” Dean spat out as he watched the demon circle him. “Or better yet, wash in holy oil and let me light a match. I’m sure you’ll go up in flames.”

“I went topside a few days ago. It’s the first time since, what…Poland 1943. To be honest I loathe that world. It’s impure. There’s no stinking of blood or smell of burnt flesh. Oh, to hear the wet flapping of flayed skin is so relaxing. I really don’t know how you stand it up there. But there was something I needed to do, or I should say someone I needed to find,” the demon spouted as he snapped his fingers and two demons dragging a body between them stepped into the room and stopped behind Dean.

Dean heard the noises behind him and tried to crane his neck to see. He cried out in shock as a body was thrown to his knees nearby. His breath left him when the young man looked up at him through the strands of dirty hair that hung in his beaten and bloody face. It was Sam, his little brother. This could not be, Sammy would never let himself be captured, Dean thought.

“Dean…” Sam rasped out as he tried to reach a hand toward him, but it was knocked away by a demon causing him to fall to the floor. “D…” Sam sobbed out as he curled in on himself to try and protect his body from the kicking.

“Sammy?” Dean whispered in disbelief. He began to pull and strain on the bindings, trying to break free. “Leave him alone you bastards! Sammy!” Dean screamed as he bloodied his wrists trying to break free. He was panting hard and trying to get his muddled brain to work as he watched the demons beat his brother.

The demons grabbed Sam’s arms and jerked him up so Alastair could slash out with a knife, ripping into his shirt and leaving a bloody trail down his chest.

“Dean, please help me!” Sam begged as Alastair lashed out again ripping into his chest. Blood colored his white T-shirt red as Sam cried out, his voice getting hoarse and raw.

“So, will you say yes to save your brother’s life?” Alastair asked.

“Stop it!” Dean cried out as tears blinded him as he watched Sam being tortured. His soul seemed to dim even more, and a darkness took its place as he closed his eyes for a moment trying not to feel so helpless and depressed.

“Please Dean, do what they want. Save me…” Sam sobbed in desperation. “Say yes.”

Dean stopped when he heard the last words and looked closely at Sam. He knew Sam, better than he knew himself, and Sam knew him. He would never ask Dean to give in no matter what. They would die for each other, but they would never ask the other to do something like that. His face hardened because he knew that was not Sam. He was not sure what or who it was, but that was not his little brother. 

“That’s not my brother!” Dean snarled at him. “You’re trying to trick me, and it won’t work. Sam would never ask me to do that. He would die first.”

“Fine, it was worth a try,” Alastair shrugged before slicing the fake Sam’s throat and letting him fall to the floor beside Dean.

Dean cried out as tears ran down his face. Even though he knew that was not _his Sam_ , it still hurt just as much as if it was. He watched the blood pool around Sam’s lifeless body as he stared with glazed eyes up at him. The demons left the body lying there for Dean to see as they turned to leave the torture room. What Dean was seeing, the lifeless body of the fake Sam, was enough torture to about break him.

**spn**

The King of the Crossroads demons strolled down the halls of Hell pretending to be minding his own business and trying to spy on anyone he could. He was deceitful and looked out for number one, himself. Crowley had found some less used hallways and decided to find out if there were any items in any of the unused rooms that might help advance his place in Hell. He was walking around a corner when two female demons came out of a room. Crowley ducked into an alcove to hide and watch.

“Are you sure my plan is playing out?” the older of the female demons asked.

“Yes, no one is the wiser and I’ve got the younger Winchester brother right where I want him. He’s totally addicted and will do whatever I ask him for another hit,” the younger demon insisted. “It didn’t take much to reel him in,” she laughed.

“That is good. When you have him juiced up enough, then train him to use his powers, you will bring him to me Ruby.”

“Yes Lilith, I understand. And he will be able to raise Lucifer from the Cage?”

“He will. And you will be richly rewarded for your loyalty and service to him,” Lilith assured her. “As for the others down here, Lucifer may have created them, but that doesn’t mean he will keep them around. Alastair will get the older Winchester to break and he will not even know what he will be setting into motion. He will be the first casualty of the war that is coming. Lucifer will be ruler of Hell and will began his reign to take over the Earth too.”

“I will come back when I can. I have to be careful of the others. They think I betrayed them and are helping the humans. They want my head.”

“Just follow through with the plan. My father will be freed from the Cage. It is my sacrifice for him. Now hurry and return before the oath misses you.”

“Yes Lilith,” Ruby nodded bowing to her before scurrying off down the hall.

Lilith watched her leave with a smirk and satisfied look on her face that her plan was playing out like she wanted it to. She turned and headed off in the opposite direction, never knowing that she had been overheard by Crowley.

**spn**

Crowley stepped from the shadows and looked both ways watching Lilith and Ruby disappearing from sight. His mind started spinning as he let what the two demons said sink in. If Lucifer was to be freed from the Cage, his life expectancy was going to be noticeably short. The wheels turned in his head as a plan started to form and the first task was to free the older Winchester before he said yes. 

He hurried off to do some scouting and to start the ball rolling. He knew there was no one he could trust with this tidbit of knowledge, especially Alastair, who thought of him as a mindless, low level demon of no importance. If Alastair could be taken out, maybe he could take his place and be the King of Hell. Might as well shoot for the crown, he thought to himself.

He was not going to let Lilith’s plan happen if there was any way to avoid it. He was not the King of the Crossroads for nothing and it did not hurt that his mother was a high level witch who had taught him a few tricks of the trade. He made his way toward his office that was located in the far pits of Hell like a castoff. It irked him to be seen this way, when he knew he was destined for greater things.

Juliet, his pet hellhound, was lounging at the door, guarding it. She jumped up, growling and chuffing as Crowley scratched her ears and mumbled soft words to her. He opened the door and stepped inside allowing Juliet to move in with him. Crowley knew she would alert him of anyone coming his way and got to work. He pulled an old wooden box from its hiding place and sat it on his desk. He pulled a chain from around his neck and took the key to unlock it.

The book Crowley pulled from the box had been his mother’s spell book. It held dark spells that she had perfected over the years. He began to flip through the book looking for a specific one that he would need to give to Dean once he got him out of Hell. When he found the spell, Crowley copied it and folded the paper to put in his pocket.

His next step was to find a body for Dean to use so he could get out of Hell without being seen. He knew Dean would need a little training before he left so he could smoke in and out of bodies at least. The rest he could learn on his own. He did not want to give him too much knowledge, thinking it might come back and bite him in the ass.

If things fell into place, he hoped to have the older Winchester out of Hell within the next couple of weeks. He just hoped he could hold on that long. He had heard demons talking about it being nearly forty years now that the older Winchester had been down here and thought he was finally going to break. 

Crowley was going to try and get a message to him so he would not give up hope yet. If his plan worked, the future was going to go down a different path. And it was going to be in his favor, he was going to see to that. 


	4. Chapter 4

The halls were empty as Crowley made his way down them to sneak in and see Dean Winchester. He had waited and listened to the other demons who tortured the souls to know what area Dean’s soul was being kept and what the demon had planned for that session. He glanced into rooms until he found Dean and checked to be sure no demons were in there or nearby. Crowley slipped into the room and over to the rack.

“Winchester,” Crowley whispered lightly slapping his face to get his attention. 

“What?” Dean’s dull voice answered.

“Listen carefully, do you want out of here?”

“Yes,” Dean replied turning his head to see a well dressed demon he did not know who had an English accent.

“Hold on for a little while longer, I am working on a plan to do just that. I have to get some pieces in place to make it happen. Don’t say yes whatever you do.”

“Why would you help me?” Dean questioned wondering if this was a sick trick to trap him, to give him hope only to shatter it.

“I have my reasons. But you should know your brother is being used and not in a good way. Remember, don’t say yes. I better go before anyone comes,” Crowley insisted before scurrying away leaving Dean with unanswered questions, but with a seed of hope growing again in his mind.

After Crowley left, Dean weighted the pros and cons of the weird conversation he just had with the demon he had never seen in all his time in Hell. Could he believe him? Could he get him out of here? What was his motivation behind it? And what did he mean his brother was being used? Could his luck have changed, and freedom was close at hand? Dean quickly hid the spark of hope in his eyes when Alastair walked into the room and let his eyes go out of focus and glaze over.

“Hello Dean, happy to see me?” Alastair asked him, his voice soft and droning.

Dean remained stoic and cringed as his sing song voice grated on his last nerve. The meatsuit Alastair was using did not match the sadistic personality of the demon. He remained silent not wanting to give him the satisfaction of conversing with him. He knew it got under the demon’s skin when he would not talk, even to insult him. He watched Alastair snap his fingers and two demons brought in a portable fire pit and sat it near the table. They started a fire getting it hot before sticking irons into the flames to heat. Dean was not having a good feeling about this and tensed his entire body as he watched Alastair turn the irons getting them red hot.

“So,” Alastair said. “Where shall we start?” he asked Dean taking a hot iron and pressing it to the soles of his feet.

Dean could not help the cries of pain that suddenly poured from his mouth as Alastair picked up another iron and pressed it to the top of his leg leaving a raw, ugly burn across it. He did not give him time to catch his breath as he laid it across his stomach, blistering it. The air filled with the stench of brunt and scorched flesh as Alastair retrieved another hot poker and moved it slowly in front of Dean’s teary eyes before pressing it to his privates and holding it there, making Dean arch his back and keen a high pitched wail as his breath was taken away. He jerked on his bindings, breaking a wrist, and dislocating his ankle. Every nerve in his body was on fire with pain like nothing he could ever imagine.

“You can stop this Dean, just say one little word and your pain can end,” Alastair offered as he leaned close to whisper into Dean’s ear. “Three little letters, one syllable and all this pain and agony can end for you.”

“You can eat shit,” Dean hissed through his clenched teeth. The sickly smell of his burnt flesh filled the air making his stomach churn and roll as he fought down the bile building in his throat.

Dean tried to suck in his stomach to pull away from the hot iron but did not have much movement. Tears dripped from his eyes as he bit his lip so hard, he tasted blood in his mouth. He was panting hard now, as Alastair continued to cook and burn his skin with the iron rods. When he poked one in his eye, Dean lost consciousness and sent his mind to his safe place so he could endure the torture until he died. His brain was on overload and something popped in his head sending Dean into a cloud of darkness where there was no pain or suffering.

When Alastair saw Dean had disappeared into his mind again, he cussed and stabbed him angrily in the heart with a hot rod to end his life once again. 

“Look what you made me do. I had hoped to get a few more hours of fun out of you before letting you die. Guess we’ll continue this tomorrow. I’ll make it last longer next time. You’ll be saying yes very soon, you can count on that.” Alastair dropped the irons back into the fire and tossed water over the coals making steam and ash fill the room. He left yelling for the demons to clean up the mess.

**spn**

“Sir, I have some deals for you to go over and sign,” one of Crowley’s minion told him as he hurried to him. “Would you like to do this in your office?”

“Today, I am going topside to check on my demons. Seems deals have been slacking off lately and I want to see if it’s the demons or the human’s fault. Leave those papers on my desk and I will get to them,” Crowley told demon waving him off with his hand.

“Yes sir, of course sir,” the demon replied bowing to Crowley and scurrying off. He knew what kind of moods Crowley could have and did not want to get on his bad side. He knew Crowley would just as soon smite you as listen to your excuses for not getting the job done.

Once the demon was out of his sight, Crowley made his way topside. He used a spell his mother had taught him to find the younger Winchester who was holed up in a cheap motel in Illinois. Crowley followed him when he left the motel to walk down to the diner to get his dinner. He studied him and saw he was anxious and jittery, like he was coming down from a high. He thought that was peculiar and stored that tidbit away for future use.

Crowley stood in the shadows of the motel building, watching and waiting until a small two door sports car pulled into the lot and eased in beside a black Impala. He knew Ruby would be showing up to join Sam since she had left Hell. He watched as she went to a door and knocked, waiting for it to be opened. The youngest Winchester jerked it open and his eyes lit up when he saw the demon. He quickly stepped aside for her to enter. 

After the door to the room closed, Crowley walked casually across the parking lot toward the sports car, glancing around to be sure no one was around. He stopped on the side that had a window cracked and dropped a coin into the car. Now, he would be able to track Ruby when she left. He gave a quick look into the motel room and saw the two in bed together and shook his head. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

**spn**

“Where have you been?” Sam questions Ruby, anger, and desperation in his voice. “I’ve been calling all day and you didn’t answer.”

“I was tracking down a lead on Lilith,” Ruby replied ignoring his agitation. “You have to be patient.”

“I’ve been out for days now. I need more.” Sam grabbed Ruby’s shoulders and pushed her to the bed where she fell back on it, stretching out to look up at Sam with knowing eyes. He covered her body with his and kissed her frantically. His body was trembling, and he can feel the need, the craving as he takes in her scent. He pulls a knife from his back pocket and flips it open, looking into her eyes for permission. She holds up her arm and lets him draw the sharp blade down her flesh opening a gash that started to leak blood. Not able to wait, Sam dropped the knife and grabbed her arm to press it to his mouth as he sucked the blood from her, relishing the coppery taste and then surge of energy it gave him.

Ruby laid still and smirked as she stroked his head knowing she had him right where she wanted him, addicted and willing to do anything for the blood.

“That’s right Sammy, drink all you want,” she mumbled softly.

When he felt the hunger subside, Sam turned and pulled the demon’s head toward his and kissed her hard and long. It was not long before clothes were shed, and another desire was sated. Sam fell asleep afterwards and Ruby quietly slipped from his arms and got dressed. She took a small vial and cut her palm, letting the blood drip into it only filling it halfway before stopping. It would be enough to last him a couple of days and he would be begging for more. She grabbed her jacket and leaned down to kiss Sam’s cheek.

“Let’s see how long you can go without me before you’re climbing the walls,” she whispered as he slept. “You are going to be perfect for my master when you release him.”

**spn**

It was an hour later, the door opened, and Ruby stepped from the room and hurried to her car. She drove away into the night leaving Sam alone. Crowley waited until it was after midnight and snapped his fingers appearing in the bathroom of Sam’s room. He moved silently to the door and looked into the room to see a mound lying in the bed asleep. He could smell the scent of sex wafting off the sleeping form and something else. He stepped into the room and sat down in a chair before smoking from his body and entering the sleeping form. Being a demon, he did not have to ask for permission to possess someone, so it made this step of the plan easy. It only took him a few moments to get what he needed and left Sam’s body to go back to his own. Sam snorted and rolled over but did not wake.

Now Crowley had the information he needed as well as learned the demon’s hold over the younger Winchester and smirked as he thought of how the older Winchester was going to take the news. That is if he told him. Maybe he would let him find out for himself and just give him a hint to mess with him. With a snap of his fingers, Crowley was in a clearing in a forest where Sam had buried Dean’s body after the hellhound attack. He studied the ground for a moment to find the right spot and performed a ritual that would heal the dead body and stop it from decaying until Dean could return to claim it. He noted the coordinates to relay to Dean later so he will know where to find his body. With that done, Crowley disappears to set in motion the next part of his plan, to free Dean Winchester from Hell.

He preened at how easy his plan was coming together.

* * *

**A/N: Crowley’s plan is coming together, and we see what Sam has been doing with Dean gone. The plan is in place and Dean will be free soon. Thank you for reading this story and I hope you are enjoying it. I do like comments. NC**


	5. Chapter 5

Crowley visited several hospital morgues to find a suitable fresh body for Dean. He wanted one that would not be missed and was in good shape with no wounds to contend with. He was in luck with the fourth one and found the body of a young man who died from an accidental drowning. His body was healthy and from the records, he had no next of kin. Crowley snagged the paperwork and whisked the body away to stash in a corner of Hell no demon ever visited. He made sure to use a temporary preserving spell on it to ensure it stayed as fresh as possible. It was close to the Cage, and everyone steered clear of the area for fear of Lucifer.

He headed toward his office to do some paperwork and to push forward with what else needed to be done before he could get Dean out of here. Crowley knew he needed to act normal and not draw any attention to himself that might delay his plan.

“Sir, sir,” a minion called to him when he turned a corner near his office.

“Yes, Gerald,” Crowley sighed. Gerald was one of the more whiny minions under his rule and he was barely able to tolerate him without snapping him from existence.

“It seems there’s a problem with some of the deals that were made recently,” Gerald offered shifting from foot to foot with uncertainty.

“So, are you going to tell me what the problem is?”

“The humans who made the deals are being killed like a week after they made them instead of their deal playing out like it should.”

“Boggarts!” Crowley growled out. “Where is this happening at and who made the deals?”

“It’s Harold’s area and he’s working around Des Moines, Iowa, right now, sir,” Gerald babbled nervously, bowing has head and shrinking in on himself, expecting an angry outburst from his news.

“Alright Gerald, you’ve just been promoted. Go to Des Moines and find out what is going on and report back to me,” Crowley ordered before strolling on past the demon. “Oh, take Gary with you for muscle.”

“Ummm…Yes sir. But, sir,” Gerald called with uncertainty.

“What Gerald?”

“What do I do if I find the problem?”

“If I were you, I’d resolve it or don’t bother coming back!” Crowley exploded, throwing his arms out and continuing toward his office. He mumbled under his breath about the hired help around here being incompetent fools. He opened the door to his office and stepped inside seeing a stack of papers in his in box waiting for his review and signatures. To be the King of the Crossroads did not alleviate all the paperwork that came with the title. He moved around the desk and dropped into his desk chair, frowning as he wiggled around and snapped his fingers to adjust the chair making it comfortable.

Crowley reached for some of the papers and tried to concentrate on each one as he scanned it before signing the pages at the bottom. He worked his way through half of the paperwork before pushing back from the chair and leaning back. He snapped his fingers and a glass of amber liquid appeared on his desk. Crowley reached for it and swirled it around for a moment before sipping on it. He was checking off things in his head and thought he would be ready to get Dean out of here in a couple of days. 

Demons loved to gossip, and he heard some talking about Alastair was going to be away for a few days and they were going to make the most of it. As they say, when the cat’s away the mice will play. He knew with Alastair gone, it would be the perfect time to get Dean out of here. He was not letting any of the other demon torture him now that he thought Dean was close to breaking. No one would be checking on him or missing him until Alastair returned.

One thing he needed to acquire were clothes for the dead body Dean would be possessing since it was naked, and he would stand out walking around in Hell unclothed. He would also need clothes for his true body because they were shredded by the hellhounds. He paused a moment, smirking as he thought of his lovely pups. They do love to play fetch. Crowley got up and headed to the supply rooms to see what he could find and stash the items in his office to have them ready. 

He so liked it when a plan came together.

**spn**

The halls were somewhat quieter with Alastair away. Crowley strolled down the hallway being invisible as he pretended to read the papers he had in his hand. None of the lesser demons challenged him or thought it strange for him to be there and paid him no mind. He walked by the room the older Winchester was in and let a couple of pages fall to the floor. As he bent to pick them up, Crowley glanced inside to be sure he was alone. As he stood, he slipped into the room and over to the rack.

“You ready to ditch this place Winchester?” Crowley asked when he saw Dean look his way.

“You’re sure this is going to work?” Dean asked as he watched Crowley unfasten the straps and tried to stand. He slumped against the rack as he worked on making his body work again.

“What have you got to lose?”

“Won’t they think it strange if my body’s not here?”

“Got that covered,” Crowley smirked snapping his fingers and making a dead body similar to Dean’s with serious injuries and most of his face destroyed appear on the rack. He quickly put the straps on his arms and ankles before turning to the older Winchester. “Shall we?”

Without warning, Dean’s upper arm was gripped tightly, and a sudden sensation of dropping disoriented him, and he would have fallen if Crowley had not had a firm grip still. They were in a dimly lit room very different to the torture rooms where Dean had been kept.

“First things first, we need to get you in this body,” Crowley started as he let Dean go and pulled a sheet down from the body he had taken from the morgue.

Dean blinked a few times and tried to get a good look at the body before stiffening and glaring at Crowley.

“Is this some kind of joke?” he demanded. “That’s a kid and a wimpy one at that.”

“Beggars can’t be choosy; I didn’t have that good of a selection to pick from. You have to remember you’re not a full demon so you can’t keep a mutilated body going like a regular demon.”

“You didn’t gank this kid, did you?” Dean asked suspiciously.

“No, he was a drowning victim. I did have another choice, but I didn’t think you wanted to go around wearing high heels and a mini skirt.”

Dean glared at the demon as he looked at the body again before speaking.

“So, what do I have to do?”

“For this nothing. I need to separate your soul from this body that Hell created and to do that I need to kill you.”

“Wait? What! I don’t…” Dean started but was cut off as Crowley plunged a knife into Dean’s chest, destroying his heart.

Crowley did not give Dean time to protest as he pulled the knife and stabbed him. When he saw his face slacken and his eyes glaze over, he began to chant an ancient, forgotten ritual and watched as smoke began to pour from Dean’s mouth. He gazed with interest when he saw it was not black like most demons but an array of colors ranging from a dark gray to grayish white to whitish silver. It swirled in on itself as the colors mixed, reformed, and joined again. Crowley finished the ritual and the gray smoke moved to the dead body and entered it by the open mouth.

After a few moments, the eyes flew open and Dean sat up and looked around. The first thing Dean became aware of was the horrible smells and tastes, all that had been part of the body’s death, nearly overwhelming his senses. His eyes felt dry and scratchy, almost to the point of pain, blood burned through his veins and every joint of his body ached fiercely. He immediately leaned over the table he was sitting on and dry heaved for a couple of minutes. Finally, he drew in some long breaths as his soul was forced to adjusted to this new body by the spell Crowley used. He looked down the skinny frame and huffed his disgust.

“You couldn’t have gotten one a little taller? What, this body is five, five; five, six at the most?” he asked in disgust.

“Here, put these on,” Crowley told him as he shoved some clothes into his arms and ignoring the comment. “You won’t be going anywhere with your dick hanging out.”

Dean could not help his face reddening as he quickly slipped on the black pants, white shirt, and black jacket. He stopped for a moment as he eyed the shoes.

“What the hell is this?” he asked holding up a pair of sandals.

“The kid had big feet, nothing in storage would fit, so just put on the black socks and no one will ever notice. It’s not like we have a fashion runway down here.”

Dean swore under his breath as he slipped on the socks and grudgingly put on the sandals wondering if the demon was messing with him.

“Here are the coordinates where your body is buried and a cell phone. I know you’ll want to find your brother. This is the spell to get into your own body and the pack has clothes and items for the spell. And I tossed in a little special treat I think will come in handy,” Crowley explained handing Dean papers and a cell. “This credit card will work anywhere and will be active for the next month. Don’t need you getting yourself killed over a pool or card game before you serve your purpose. Keep this with you at all times,” Crowley told him, holding out a hex bag. “It will keep demons from tracking you when you get out.”

“How am I supposed to find my way out of here?” Dean asked taking the things from Crowley and putting them in the pack.

“I have that covered.” He grabbed Dean’s arm again and snapped his fingers taking them to a different part of Hell. Crowley whistled once and waited.

Dean looked around once he got over the zapping thing and froze when he heard the snuffing and chuffing of a hell hound bounding toward them. The memories flooded back into his mind of what had happened to him and he thought he was going to pass out.

“There’s my baby girl,” Crowley cooed to the hellhound as he scratched and rubbed her head. He turned to Dean and saw the frightened, wide-eyed stare as he took a step back, his breaths quickening. “Don’t worry, Juliet won’t harm a fly unless I tell her. She doesn’t retrieve souls for me. She will lead you to a hell gate where you can return to the upper world.”

A guttural sound came from Dean as he gulped air spastically before finally getting out a sentence.

“You can’t take me there?”

“No darling; no time for hand holding I’m afraid. I can’t afford to be seen with you. If anyone should stop you, tell them you are one of my new recruits and I have you running errands.”

“I don’t even know who you are,” Dean reminded him as he fought to calm himself while still keeping a cautious eye on the hound.

“Of course, I’m bad, name’s Crowley, King of the Crossroads demons. And Dean, be wary of a demon named Ruby, she’s a lying, conniving bitch and not a friend.” Crowley bend down and whispered into the hellhound’s ear before giving her a final pat. “You should leave now. You need to stop your brother from continuing down a dangerous path; whatever it takes. If he is not stopped…He could be the downfall for humanity.” 

Dean darted his dark eyes up at Crowley for a moment before moving to the hellhound’s side and holding out his hand for a moment so she could get his smell. He stepped to her side, close enough that their bodies nearly brushed and stayed there. His new body felt awkward and too small, but if this was what it took to get back to his brother, he would suffer through it. 

Juliet moved quietly through the hallways, stopping once and awhile to sniff the air before continuing. Dean did not know how long they had been walking and was relieved that they had only met a couple of other demons who paid him no mind. The unlikely pair rounded a corner and Dean pulled to a stop when he saw a dead end.

“What’s this?” he asked the hellhound. “Did you get lost?” Dean stepped slightly in front of the hellhound to look at the rock walls when suddenly Juliet headbutted him hard in the back. Dean did not have a chance to protect himself as he slammed face first into the rocks of the wall.

* * *

**A/N: Dean is out of Hell now and going in search of his brother. What will he think when he finds Sam? Can Dean stop him? Thank you for coming along on this journey with me. I do like comments. NC**


	6. Chapter 6

Dean stiffened his body and was waiting for the blunt force trauma he was about to receive from being shoved into the rock wall ahead of him when his body suddenly passed through a barrier, taking his breath away as he fell to the ground. “Stupid, ugly, pushy, mutt,” he grunted.

He lay there squinting his eyes tightly shut from the sunlight that shone around him because it hurt his eyes. He had not seen sunlight in nearly fifty years. He fisted his hands into the dirt and sand that he was lying on, feeling the coarseness and warmth of it. He turned his head and drew in several short breaths, breathing fresh air and listened to all the forest sounds around him. Even in this body it was amazing and brought tears to his eyes.

When he was able to open his eyes enough to see, Dean saw he was in a small clearing surrounded by trees and there was a rocky outcrop behind him. He carefully pushed up from the ground and used the rocks to help him stand on rubbery legs. He brushed the dirt from his clothes and face and wondered where the hell he was. 

Dean shouldered the pack and looked to the right and left trying to decide which way he should go. Deciding left seemed to be leading downward, he chose that way hoping to run across a trail or path that would lead him to civilization. He reveled in the warmth of the sun that shone on his face, thinking it was the best feeling he had felt in an exceedingly long time.

He cursed this weak out of condition body he was in when he tried to move faster and could not do it. It took him nearly two hours before he stepped out onto a hiking trail and saw a sign a few yards further down the trail. He walked down to it and read the names on the pieces of wood. He was in Kentucky in the Daniel Boone National Forest and a long way from his body and he had no idea where Sam was. After contemplating his choices, Dean decided to find the nearest town and Wi-Fi so he could use the burner cell Crowley had given him to track down his brother. If Sam had not turned off his GPS on his cell, Dean knew he could track him that way without him being the wiser.

Crowley was very mysterious about what Sam was doing and he wanted to see for himself before going to retrieve his body. With this body, Sam would not know it was him and he could find out the truth for himself. He turned to head down the trail hoping whatever town was near had a thrift store so he could get some jeans, t-shirt and long sleeved shirt instead of a suit. And definitely a pair of boots. He felt stupid being on the trail dressed like he was, but he had no choice. It was not until he was almost to the trailhead that he saw other people hiking.

There was a parking lot at the trailhead, and he looked around to see if there was anyone that looked promising, he might could bum a ride from. He had to remind himself he was in a teenager’s body and could not put on the charm to win over women, not like he could in his true body. 

“Excuse me,” Dean asked a middle aged couple that looked like they were leaving. “I got separated from my friends and was wondering if you could give me a ride to the nearest town?” He gave his best innocent look in hopes they would think him nonthreatening.

The woman looked at him for a moment and smiled.

“Sure dear, why don’t you get in back? We’ll be going by Somerset and can let you off there. Will that be okay?”

“Yes, thank you so much. I’ll call someone to come and get me. I really appreciate this,” Dean replied climbing in the backseat of their SUV and settling down. 

They made small talk during the drive and Dean thanked them once again when he was dropped off at a gas station at the outskirts of Somerset. He went in to use the restroom and glanced at the newspapers stacked on the counter. Dean was shocked to see the date and that only five months had passed since he had died, not the fifty years he had experienced in Hell. He thought about it and figured time must run differently in other planes of existence. At least now he knew Sam would not be some old dude barely able to get around.

He made his way deeper into the town and looked around for either a clothing store or thrift store. It did not take him long to find one and went inside to buy comfortable clothes and some boots. He refused to wear the god awful sandals any longer than he had to. When Dean came out of the store, he felt better and looked better. He blended in with the crowd and went in search of a café or internet cafe where you could buy time on a laptop. He had to walk several blocks before finding a street that had what he was looking for.

Dean walked into the café and ordered a sandwich and drink and bought an hour’s time on a laptop. He waited for his food and took a seat at a laptop away from the other patrons. He read the instructions on how to login and got online pulling up a map to see where he was. He opened another search engine and pulled up a program to track a cell number. After typing in Sam’s number, he sat back and waited as it located the cell. 

He took several bites of his sandwich and looked at it in surprise. He never remembered food tasting this good. Not having to eat for fifty years really made an impact now as he devoured the rest of the sub and guzzled his drink. He looked up at the screen when it dinged it was finished. Sam’s cell showed he was in Springfield, Illinois, in a motel. He pulled out the paper that had the coordinates for his body and typed them in to see where it was. They pointed to a small area about two hundred miles northwest of Springfield, in the middle of nowhere.

After bumming a pen from the cashier, Dean jotted down the information and sat there trying to decide his next move. Sam was closer and the need to see him won out over his body. He estimated he was about eight hours from Springfield and weighed his options on how to get there. There had to be a bus heading that way, but it would take forever for him to get there with the stops it would make, or he could steal a car. After thinking about it, Dean headed out and went looking for a car. 

**spn**

The late model Chevy was banged up and had a few rusty spots, but at least it ran. Dean did not think it would be missed for a while since it was sitting in the back lot at a garage that was closed for a couple days. He switched out the license plate with another vehicle and made sure it had a full tank before leaving Somerset.

Traffic was traveling at a steady pace and Dean fell in between some truckers. He stayed there until he needed to pull off to have a restroom break and fill the car. So far, the credit card Crowley had given him was working and he was going to take advantage of it. After what he had endured at the hands of demons, he thought it was only fitting. He also realized that he was going to owe this Crowley demon a favor for getting him out of Hell. Maybe he would try it at an ATM and see if he could get some cash to use. That would give him some time before having to scrounge more money.

Dean ran into two small rainstorms in his travels and was happy they did not last long. It was getting dark and he still had another two hours of driving before reaching Springfield. He stopped one final time to get gas and something to eat. Dean checked his cell to see Sam was still in the same place and was going to head there first. He had written down directions to the motel once he got to Springfield. He was starting to get anxious and nervous about seeing Sam again, but had to pull it together. If Sam was in trouble, he needed to help him. 

As the outskirts of the town came into view, Dean started watching for the street he needed to take to the motel that was on the other side of town. Traffic was light and he made good time getting there. He looked at the motel and thought it was a couple steps down from what they had been staying in and wondered why Sam had downgraded to something this rundown. Dean decided to get a room there too, so he could watch Sam and try to determine his mindset. He parked at the office and went inside to get a single room for a couple of nights.

As Dean moved the car to the back where the rooms were located, he saw his Baby parked at the end and a tightness settled in his chest. His room was at the other end and he found a parking space near it. He got out and went to the door to unlock it and flip on the lights before going in. It was sparse and rundown, but it would suffice his needs. Dean dropped his pack on the bed and decided to take the chance and see if Sam was in his room.

After locking his door, Dean walked down the walkway toward the other end of the building and stopped at the door staring at it. He drew in a slow breath and raised his hand to rap on the door. He listened to noises coming from behind closed door and waited until it was jerked open and a disheveled Sam stared at him.

Sam looked at the kid standing at his door and looked out onto the parking lot for anyone else but did not see anyone.

“Can I help you?” he asked his voice grating and rough.

“Sorry man; got the wrong room,” Dean replied giving his brother a once over. He could tell there was something wrong with him. He seemed anxious, jerky, sweaty, and was not doing good with hygiene from the faint smell of body odor coming off him. His eyes were bloodshot and had the start of bruising under them from lack of sleep. Dean did not know what Sam had been doing, but it was not anything good. If he did not know better, he though Sam was going through some type of withdrawal, like a junkie would. He looked around Sam but did not see anyone else in the room behind him which was messier than he remembered Sam being.

“Yeah, no problem,” Sam told him as he looked out into the parking lot again.

“Have a good night,” Dean said stepping away and looking into the lot wondering what Sam was looking for. He heard the door close behind him and pinched his lips into a tight line. He was going to keep an eye on Sam for a couple of days to see what he was doing. Dean opened his door and went in and to the window checking if he could see Sam’s room from there. He moved to the other side and took a seat so he could watch out the window. He could see the light was on in Sam’s room and could watch if anyone visited him.

The hours ticked away, and Dean saw the light go out in Sam’s room. It was getting late and Dean waited another couple of hours before getting up and grabbing the key and going to the door. He opened it and stepped outside to look around before strolling through the parking lot toward the Impala. He kept looking around as he stopped and reached to get the spare key, he had hidden in a wheel well.

Dean moved to the trunk and unlocked it to look inside. He used the outside lights to see the contents and grabbed a handgun and extra ammo, spare silver knife and a collapsible shovel from the back. He quickly clicked the trunk lid shut and hurried back to his room with his items. He did not think Sam would miss the items if he even bothered to check. He closed the door behind him and dropped the gun and shovel on the table. He went to the bathroom and got ready for bed deciding that was it for now. He would pick back up the next day and tail Sam if he left the room.

He was going to get to the bottom of what his brother had been doing since he had been in Hell and what was wrong with him. 

* * *

**A/N: Dean has found Sam and knows something is wrong with him, but he does not know what. Things are going to get interesting and there will be a few twists thrown in for good measure. Thank you for taking this journey with me. I do like comments. NC**


	7. Chapter 7

Sam rolled over in bed and looked at the time seeing it was too early to get up. He lay there a moment before reaching for his cell to call Ruby again. She had been gone over a week and he was climbing the walls needing a blood fix. He had finished off the blood she had left in two days and was starting to feel the needs and cravings eating at him. He was fidgety, shaky, could not sleep, could not think straight, moody, and he felt like he was losing control of himself.

He dialed her number and swore when it went to voicemail once again and threw the cell on the bed. He tried to draw in some cleansing breaths, but it was not stopping the increased beating of his heart or the anger building in him. She knew he needed the blood and could not understand why she did not call him back. He threw back the covers when he saw there would be no more sleep for him. He headed for the bathroom to get a shower hoping it might help calm him and wash away the sweat that clung to his body.

Sam let the water beat on his face for a moment before turning to wet his greasy hair. He shampooed it and then washed his body. He turned the water off and reached for a rough, thin towel to dry off so he could dress. He knew the diner would be open by now and decided to walk down to it and get some breakfast. He had not eaten much in the past few days and hoped it would help. Sam looked at his clothes tossed in a chair and on his duffle wondering if any were clean. He reached down and grabbed briefs to slip on and picked the cleanest looking jeans to slip up his legs and settle on his hips. He picked up a T-shirt and smelled it before dropping it for another one. Once he had his button up shirt on and dug his jacket from under a pile of clothes, he snagged the room key and headed out the door. 

The parking lot was half full and traffic was staring to pick up on the road in front of the motel as people headed out to work to start their day. He hunched down in his jacket when a chill ran down his spine. He kept his eyes downcast and only glanced up to be sure he was going in the right direction toward the diner.

**spn**

Dean’s eyes flew open and he looked around the room and then down at a body that was not his and let his head fall back on the pillow as he sighed in disgust. It was not a dream and he was in a skinny, kid’s body in a shabby motel room. He decided to get up and shower and put back on the only clothes he had before going to find some breakfast. Dean went to the window and looked out to see the Impala was still sitting there, but he didn’t know if Sam was still in his room or not and he didn’t think going and knocking on his door again would be a good idea.

After turning on the water, Dean stripped off his briefs and T-shirt and adjusted the temperature before stepping under the hot spray. He soaked his long hair and picked up the small bottle of shampoo that was provided to wash it. The little cake of soap did not seem as small in his hand and he snorted, loathing his body. Not wanting to prolong the shower any longer, he quickly washed his body, ignoring his privates and rinsed. A rinse was going to be good enough. He figured he was not going to mess with someone else’s junk, since he would be out of this _‘loaner’_ in a day or two. He grabbed a towel and dried off before stepping from the tub. Dean put on the clothes he had bought the day before and went to find his boots. Once he had them on and slipped on the thin jacket, he found the room key and headed out to check out the diner down the street.

Dean was almost to the diner when he saw Sam step through the door and walk toward him. He faltered in his steps not sure what to do. He watched closely as a petite, dark headed, young woman headed toward Sam who had stopped when he saw her. He could see the tension in Sam’s body and a look of desperation on his face. When the woman stopped by him, Sam grabbed her arm and pulled her between the two buildings, into an alley way, out of sight. 

Wanting to see what was going on, Dean hurried toward where they disappeared and quickly looked down it to see the two had stopped midway. Dean slunk quietly down the side, staying in the shadows until he could slip into a doorway out of sight partially blocked by a dumpster. He listened closely when he heard Sam’s raised voice.

“Why didn’t you answer my calls Ruby? Where have you been?” Sam questioned his voice harsh and demanding.

“You know I’m trying to run leads down and can’t always answer my phone,” Ruby replied ignoring his tone. She let Sam push her roughly into the wall and looked up into his hungry, bloodshot eyes. Ruby laughed haughtily at him and ran a finger down his jawline as she smirked. She had him right where she wanted him. “I know you like it rough Sammy. And you know I have just what you need, don’t I?” she cooed to him. She reached into a pocket and pulled out a knife, letting Sam see it, as she opened it up.

Dean was listening to the conversation, but not sure what they were talking about. He can tell Sam was on edge and wondered just what this Ruby bitch was giving him to make him act this way. He peeked carefully around the corner of his little alcove and saw the flash of something in her hand and realized it was a knife. He pushed from the doorway getting ready to stop her from hurting his brother when what happened next took his breath away and made him stumble back quietly into his hiding place. He saw the woman’s eyes turn black for a few moments as Sam seemed to be drinking her blood from a cut on her arm. He peeked again, silently watching what was happening in the alley. 

Ruby raised the knife to her forearm and let the blade slice deep, letting the blood run freely. She smirked when Sam grabbed her arm and licked the trail of blood before latching onto the wound and sucking her blood like a vampire.

“That’s it baby, take what you need,” Ruby encouraged Sam in a soft, enticing voice. After a few minutes, she pulled her arm away, but Sam tried to hold on. “Take it easy Sammy, why don’t we take this back to your room where we can get more, comfortable?” She stood on her tiptoes and pulled Sam’s head down to kiss him. He ran his hands down her body and moaned softly as he kissed her back.

“Let’s go,” Sam insisted wrapping an arm around her waist and guiding her quickly from the alley and toward his motel. “I’ve missed you and your body,” he mumbled burying his face into her dark hair.

Dean did not move a muscle as they walk past him, not seeing him pressed into the shadows of the doorway. He did not believe what he just saw. Sam was freaking drinking her blood like a damn vampire. That had to be how she was controlling him, getting him hooked on demon blood and then withholding it from him to make him want it all the more. Den saw red and knew he had to end that demon bitch’s life before she completely destroyed his brother. To do that, he needed his body and knew what he needed to do.

He gave them enough of a head start, then with determined footsteps, Dean headed back to the motel and to his room. He grabbed his things and headed to the car. He was going to find his body and get it back before confronting Ruby and taking her out. There was no way he was going to let her live knowing now what she had done to Sam. Dean sped away from the motel and got back on the road heading northwest. It would take him about three hours to get to where Sam had buried him. He knew he would have to hike to the spot, but he was going to get as close as he could by car.

**spn**

When Dean saw he could not go any further with the car, he pulled off the road onto an unused service access road. He got out and grabbed his pack and the shovel from the back seat before checking the map to be sure he went in the right direction. He entered the forest along the edge of the road and starting hiking toward his grave. It took him thirty minutes to break through the trees and into a small clearing that had a handmade wooden cross stuck in the ground marking the grave.

Dean stood there a moment taking in the tranquil scenery, thinking this would have been what he wanted if could have chosen a place to be buried. Sam had picked a good spot for him, he had to give him that. Dean shook his body to break out of the thought and headed to the grave. He dropped his pack and folded the shovel open and locked it in place. He knelt and began to dig into the soft soil, throwing it to the side. He did not think Sam would have buried the coffin too deep, at least he hoped not.

After an hour of shoveling dirt, Dean felt the shovel hit something hard and started brushing the loose soil away to reveal a wooden coffin. Once he had it uncovered, Dean used the shovel to pry the lid off and push it aside out of the way. He looked down at his true body and smiled. 

“You are one handsome dude,” he mumbled. Dean pulled the pack over and began to remove the contents. He found the spell to let him return to his body, the ingredients needed, jeans and shirts, boots in his real body’s size, and wrapped in a velvet cloth, Crowley had included a knife with sigils and ancient writing along the blade. It had a bone hilt and was very sharp He grasped the hilt and turned it over in his hand looking closely at it and wondered just what it would kill, before sliding it into the black leather sheath provided. 

Dean laid everything aside and picked up the paper with the spell. He read it over twice before moving back to the grave. The one good thing was he did not have to kill himself to make the transfer. Dean read the spell and sprinkled the provided mixed ingredients over his body and lastly, cut his palm to press it to the skin of his true body and waited.

Pain coursed through his body and Dean cried out as his soul broke free from the temporary body and his gray soul began to roll from his mouth. The smoke swirled around Dean’s true body before making his way into his mouth and down his throat. When all the smoke had disappeared, the body of the kid fell over lifeless.

Dean’s lungs sucked in his first breath in almost fifty years, and sat up in the coffin as every nerve in his body fired, making him feel like he was on fire and someone was jabbing needles into his skin, and also tasering him in the chest to keep his heart beating. He coughed hard trying to not let the unbearable pain knock him unconscious. He bent over and fought to keep from throwing up as Dean let the dizziness pass. It took a few minutes before the fire in his body started to cool and he was able to slow his breathing and calm his pounding heart.

Once Dean felt he could stand, he pushed himself out of the coffin and sat in the dirt beside it. He looked at the body of the kid for a moment and decided to bury him in the coffin. Since he had no family, it only seemed fitting that he should have a serene place like this. He stretched the body out in the coffin and replaced the lid before picking up the shovel to start filling in the hole.

Once he was done, Dean stripped out of his shredded clothes and looked his body over not seeing any scars or marks on his skin. Even his anti-possession tattoo was gone which was good since he did not think of it before reclaiming his body. He replaced the ruined ones with the new clothes Crowley had furnished. He slipped on his boots and tied them and picked up the strange knife, slipping it into a pocket for safe keeping. Now that he was in his true body, Dean stretched and twisted trying to adjust to it again.

It was time now to hunt down a demon bitch and gank her sorry ass, he thought as he picked up his pack to leave.

* * *

**A/N: Dean has his true body finally and has a mission, to kill Ruby before she corrupts Sam more than he is. He is not happy about what Sam has been doing, but he is not going to abandon him. Thank you for coming along on this journey. Comments would make my day. NC**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Dean is going to meet Ruby and you can imagine how that is going to turn out. The brothers will reunite, but it does not go well. Thank you for taking this journey with me and I hope you are enjoying the ride. I do like comments. NC**

* * *

Dean pulled into a convenience store across from the motel and went in to buy another burner cell. He was going to stash it in Ruby’s car so he could track her. He came out and crossed the street, looking around to be sure no one was watching him. He saw a two door Mustang sitting beside the Impala and was sure it belonged to the bitch, Ruby. He watched the room as he stopped by the driver’s door and popped the lock.

Once Dean had the cell stuffed under the seat, he popped the hood and relocked the door as he quietly closed it. He pulled the hood up and locked it in place so he could sabotage the engine. He had plenty of knowledge about engines to quickly take care of that. He wanted her to get out of town and break down on the side of the road. Dean planned on driving up to the rescue to help but she would not be driving away. He put the hood down and used his weight to close it as he coughed so it would not sound so loud. With his mission completed, Dean skirted around the parking lot and back across the street. He did not know how long she would be staying, but he bet not long.

Deciding to grab something to eat and an ice cold beer, Dean went back into the store and got a hotdog and beer. He headed to the car and checked to be sure the Mustang was still in the parking lot across the street. He settled into the driver’s seat, grumbling about not getting to drive his Baby and the tight fit now that he had _his body_ back. 

Dean moaned with delight as he bit into the hotdog and let the flavors explode in his mouth. He took a sip of the beer and hummed as the tangy taste washed the hotdog down his throat. He planned on finding a bar with great bar food and his favorite brand of beer to enjoy himself, celebrating his new life, after dealing with the black eyed bitch and confronting his brother. He wanted to see what Sam would tell him and if he would mention Ruby and the blood. He wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt that he would do the right thing; for now, at least.

With the last of the beer and hotdog gone, Dean burped a couple of times and steered his gaze back to the motel parking lot and the car he was watching. An hour passed and there was no movement from the room. He was about ready to get out and walk around when the motel room door opened, and Ruby stepped into the doorway with Sam at her side. He leaned down and kissed her deeply before telling her something and watched her walk toward the Mustang. It grated him to no end that Sam would even think of having sex with a demon and drinking her blood. Damn! Had something changed in him making him more a monster, than human? Dean rolled the sick thoughts around in his head, hoping none of them were true for his brother’s sake. 

Dean sat up in the seat and started his car before pulling up the tracking program so he could track the cell in Ruby’s car. He did not want to be too close so she would not make him. Dean hoped Ruby did not know what he looked like since she had mainly been topside while he had been gone. Ruby pulled from the parking lot and headed out of town and Dean waited before pulling out too. He kept several cars between them and gave her a good lead, trying to time it out in his head when the car should break down.

**spn**

Ruby had past the town limits and was going to pick up a rural road to head south. She thought about the shape Sam had been in when she saw him and smirked to herself. He was exactly where she wanted him, and it would not be much longer until Lilith’s plan could fall into place. Once Sam’s brother broke and tortured the first soul, the seals could be broken, and their plan could start coming to an end, freeing their master, Lucifer.

There was only the occasional car passing her now and she flipped on the radio for some music when suddenly the engine started knocking and the car began to jerk as lights flashed on the dash. She quickly pulled over onto the shoulder of the road out of the traffic and stopped. As soon as she stopped, the car died, and she sat there a moment wondering what to do. She pulled her cell out but found there was no signal and dropped it back onto the seat.

Ruby popped the latch for the hood and got out to move to the front of the car. She pulled on the hood and leaned down to look for the release latch so she could open it. Once she had the arm in place, Ruby stood there looking at the engine with no idea what might be wrong or where to even start looking. She swore under her breath and leaned over to get a better look. She straightened up and looked up and down the road for any signs of another vehicle heading her way. She kicked at the dirt in frustration and wondered how long it take her to walk the twenty miles back to a gas station to get help. 

A noise got her attention as she moved to look back down the road in the direction she had come. A car was coming her way, so she moved beside the car and waved her arm to get the driver’s attention. The car slowed and pulled in behind her and stopped. She was surprised when a tall, hunk of a man got out and smiled at her.

“Looks like you’ve got car problems ma’am. I’m pretty good with engines if you want me to check it out?” Dean asked trying not to show the disgust and anger that was brewing inside of him. The knife was in the waist of his jeans within easy access as he walked toward the demon. He was a little surprised that he could see her true face and she was one ugly sonovabitch. He wished he had time to make her suffer like she was making Sam suffer, but he could not linger here. He needed to get to Sam.

“Thanks for stopping. I don’t know what happened, it just made a funny noise and started jerking and died,” Ruby told him plastering on her best smile. Now this was one guy she would not mind shagging. At least he would not be as needy and clingy as the younger Winchester was. 

“Let me take a look.” Dean moved to the front of the Mustang and leaned over to look at the engine. He could feel Ruby sidling up to him and leaning in close to watch. He made a big deal of checking hoses and pulling on wires before speaking again. “I think I found a loose wire here. Shouldn’t be too hard to fix.”

“I don’t know how I can repa…” Ruby started in a sultry voice when suddenly she felt a pain in her chest. She looked down and saw a knife that Dean had stabbed her with and watched in disbelief as he twisted the blade and pulled it out. She could not comprehend what was happening to her as fire raced through her veins and streaks of red and black ran up and down her body before her blackened soul was destroyed and the body she was possessing crumbled to the ground.

“That was for my little brother bitch!” Dean spat out with the rage he was feeling, his eyes turning dark. He looked at the knife and down at her body arching his eyebrows with interest. She had not smoked out of her body and if he was not mistaken, she had been killed, like actually killed. He reached down and wiped the blade off on her clothes before sheathing it.

Dean reached down and picked up the body so he could position her in the driver’s seat. He closed the hood of the car and reached in to put the car in neutral and turned the steering wheel, so it was pointing toward a steep drop off that was off the right. Dean reached under the seat and felt around for the burner cell and dropped it into his pocket. He did not want to leave any incriminating evidence around if the car was found. He got into his car and eased it forward until the car’s front bumper touched the Mustang’s back one. He gave his car a little more gas to move the Mustang toward the ravine. 

The front wheels of the Mustang started to spin slowly in the open air as the dirt underneath them gave way. With one final push, the Mustang went over the rim and plunged downward, rolling a couple of times before coming to rest in the trees and brush below. 

Dean stopped and got out to look over the edge, satisfied that car would not be found for a while.

“Good riddance,” Dean mumbled brushing his hands together before turning and going back to the car. He got in and turned around to head back into town. He pulled up his tracking program to see Sam was still at the motel and hoped he stayed there until he could get back there. Dean did not know what kind of reception he was going to get but he had to control his anger and not take it out on Sam. He knew it would not do any good blowing up at him. He had to assess his state of mind and where his head was at right now. 

**spn**

Dean pulled into the parking lot and around to the back to park beside his Baby. He got out and ran a hand lovingly over the top of it before looking to the door of Sam’s room. He squared his shoulders and walked to the door to knock, waiting for it to be answered.

“Did you forget some…” Sam started when he opened the door and back pedaled when he saw his brother standing there. His mouth gaped open and he tried to speak but could not get any words to pass his lips. He stared wide eyed in disbelief as Dean spoke.

“Hi ya S’mmy,” Dean greeted him in a neutral tone, as he took a cautious step into the room and let the door close behind him.

Sam stumbled backwards away from Dean until he was at the weapon’s bag. He fumbled in the bag and came up with a knife before lunging at Dean with his arm raised to stab him.

Dean did not move and waited to see what Sam was going to do. He saw his movements and quickly grabbed Sam’s arm in his steely grip holding it away from him. He pressed harder on Sam’s wrist until he dropped the knife to the floor. Dean was careful with the pressure, not wanting to hurt Sam, but to get his point across, he was not letting Sam hurt him.

Sam grimaced in pain as Dean squeezed his wrist and he had to drop the knife. He did not understand how Dean was so strong now and how he got out of Hell. He cradled his wrist to his chest and rubbed it when Dean let him go. He scurried backwards toward the bed and looked to the door trying to decide if he could make it there before Dean stopped him. 

“We need to talk Sammy,” Dean sighed not taking his eyes off Sam’s face. He could read him like a book and knew what he was going to try. “I wouldn’t try it; you wouldn’t make it.”

“Who are you?” Sam growled out as he fisted his hands to defend himself. “You can’t be Dean!”

“I’m your brother Sammy. I went to Hell for you. It wasn’t easy, but with a little help, I got out,” Dean shrugged. “Now why don’t we sit down and get caught up?”

“First, you need to be tested,” Sam stated with determination. He grabbed a vial of holy water and held it out to Dean.

Dean looked at the holy water Sam was holding out and tried to decide what to do. He was not a full fledge demon and did not know how it would affect him. He weighted his options in his mind but before he could decide anything, Sam had opened the holy water and threw it at Dean catching him on the side of his face.

Dean grunted in pain as the water splashed onto his face, but it did not burn as bad as he thought. It was more like a bad sunburn for a few moments and his skin reddened where the water touched it. He drew in some slow breaths and waited for it to pass as he looked up at Sam as his eyes darkened slightly before he got his anger under control.

Sam did not know why Dean was hesitating and took matters into his own hands by opening the vial and tossing it toward him. He frowned in confusion and disbelief as Dean’s face reddened with ugly splotches but never blistered or smoked like it would do to demons.

“What are you?” Sam asked slowly. “A shifter? Are you trying to trick me?” Sam asked taking out a knife and holding it out to Dean.

Dean huffed his distaste but took the knife to cut a small place on his arm to show he was not a shifter either. Sam watched in surprise when the shallow wound healed on its own. He saw the puzzlement on Sam’s face as he grew pale and seemed to waver.

“Sit down, we should talk,” Dean sighed wiping his face of the water. “I **am** your brother Sammy, but I’m a little different now. What you could say an improved version of myself.”

Sam’s legs started to give out as he stumbled back to the bed and fell onto it. He sat on the edge of the bed as he tried to make sense of what Dean was telling him and what he saw. How could this be his brother and him react like that to holy water and to be able to heal? His mind was spinning out of control and the room was starting to fade in and out as he felt lightheaded and about to faint from shock.

“Don’t go passing out on me Sammy,” Dean insisted hurrying to the bathroom to wet a cloth and bringing it back to wipe Sam’s face and put it on the back of his neck. “Lean over bro, you’re going to be okay.” He sat down beside him and kept a hand on his shoulder to be sure he did not faceplant on the floor. “Slow breaths, in and out.”

Sam could feel the coldness on his face as he leaned forward and felt a hand on his shoulder holding him. He finally gave up on being afraid of this returned Dean because he could sense his brother in him. He closed his eyes and tried to do what Dean said and drew some shaky breaths in and let them out. This was exactly what his brother would do for him and he could not stop the tears that filled his eyes and leaked down his face. He shuttered a hitched breath as he waited for the episode to pass as Dean sat by him taking care of him like a big brother would.


	9. Chapter 9

It took Sam nearly ten minutes before the dizziness and feeling of fainting passed and during that time Dean didn’t remove his hand from Sam’s shoulder, nor did he say anything to him. Sam felt his body trembling uncontrollably as he got himself under control. They sat quietly side by side until Sam slowly raised his head and straightened up, nodding he was okay.

“How ‘bout we get out of this dump and find some place a little nicer with two beds?” Dean asked when he saw Sam was calming. “This place stinks. It’s on me.”

“Sure, I guess that’s okay,” Sam replied looking around at the clothes laying around the room. He carefully got up and gathered them to stuff in his duffle. His mind wandered thinking he did not have any clean clothes left and needed to find some place to do laundry. Sam got his bathroom bag and packed it on top and watched Dean pick up his computer bag to head out. Sam followed him to the Impala and pulled the keys from his pocket, holding them out ready to toss them to Dean. “Guess you’ll want to drive.”

“Hell yeah,” Dean smiled as he snagged the keys in midair and unlocked the doors. He put Sam’s bag in the back seat and went to the stolen car to get his pack. He was going to need more clothes soon, he thought.

“I…I kept your duffle in the trunk,” Sam told him looking at his brother and then away.

“Thanks bro,” Dean smiled to himself thinking that Sam had carried them around for five months and was glad he had. That meant he would have his own clothes to wear. Dean dropped into the driver’s seat and sat there for a moment getting the feel of it again as he rubbed a hand around the steering wheel. He adjusted the seat forward a little so he could reach the pedals again. “Did you miss me, Baby?” he asked softly. “I missed you.”

Sam got settled in the passenger seat and listened to Dean talking to the car. He had always had a love affair with her, but he understood why. The Impala had been their home growing up and when their Dad had given it to Dean it became his pride and joy. He had put her back together when she had been wrecked and didn’t change anything about her from the green Army soldier he had rammed into the ashtray in the back, to the Legos Dean had shoved down the heat vents, to their initials that they carved onto the back shelf in back. When Dean cranked her up, he could have sworn the car purred her happiness as she settled into a steady rumble.

“We’ll head for Sioux Falls and find a motel along the way. I think we should talk before getting there,” Dean told Sam as he pulled from the parking lot. He headed for the interstate and figured on driving a few hours before finding a decent motel and place to get some takeout. He thought it would be better that they had this conversation alone. He turned on the radio and grimaced at the music that came from the speakers. “Oh Baby, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled reaching to change the station to something more his liking.

“Okay,” Sam mumbled as he looked out at the passing scenery already thinking he needed to send Ruby a text to let her know he had checked out of the motel and to let her know when they stopped. He had enough blood for a couple of days, if he rationed it, but then he would be out again. She would need to know where to find him so he could get more. He was lost in his thoughts and did not notice Dean glance at him a few times and frown slightly.

Sam had got quiet and Dean looked over at him noticing a glazed look to his eyes like he was someplace else. Dean looked back at the road when his brother’s voice whispered in his mind. He did not get everything but did pick up on Ruby, text, and blood, before his voice was gone. Dean thought this was strange and wondered if what happened to him in Hell that changed him caused this to happen. Sam and he had a strong bond all their lives and knew what the other was thinking but this was different. It was more intense and connected. He filed it away to test out later, after they came to an understanding between them. Dean wanted to know why Sam was drinking demon blood and what his end game was supposed to be. He did not understand why Sam would allow himself to get messed up like this. 

**spn**

Dean had been driving for several hours and decided it was time to stop. He started watching the signs and saw a decent motel and restaurants about ten miles ahead to stop at. He occasionally looked sideways at Sam who had not spoken since they left the motel. He was looking out the side window so he could not tell if he was asleep or just out of it. He started changing lanes so he would be in the far right to exit ahead.

Sam was in a semi-trance as he let the steady motion of the car lull him almost to sleep. He suddenly felt the change in the motion of the car as it slowed and shook his head slightly to pull himself back to reality. He moved around and straightened up and looked out the windshield to see that Dean was getting ready to exit the interstate. Sam figured he had decided they were going to stop, and he stiffened slightly because he knew what that meant. Dean expected him to tell him about what had happened after he was dragged to Hell. Sam had his own questions that he wanted answered about Dean and knew this was a two way street. 

The Impala rolled to a stop at the top of the exit ramp and Dean looked both ways, waiting for the light to change thinking he would run in and get them some food before going to the motel for a room. He turned left and drove down the road a short distance and pulled into a diner.

“I’m going to get us some food. You still like that rabbit crap?” Dean asked Sam as he pulled into a parking spot near the front of the diner. 

Sam cleared his throat so he could speak. “Anything’ll be fine,” he replied, his voice sounding weak. The past months Sam had barely been eating and it was whatever was available, from gas station food to fast food.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes and we’ll head over to the motel and get a room.” Dean got out of the car being sure to take the keys with him. “I expect you to be here when I get back,” he continued before heading for the front doors of the diner.

Sam watched him go inside and pulled his cell out to send a text to Ruby. He let her know he had changed motels and for her to text him and he would meet her somewhere nearby. He did not tell her about Dean, just that he had some things to talk about. Now that Dean was back, his need for revenge was lessening. He still wanted to take Lilith out for what she did to Dean, but it was not top priority now. Sam quickly hid his cell when Dean came out with bags of food and a carton holding drinks. He stopped on Sam’s side of the car and waited for him to open the door.

“Here you go,” he said. Dean handed him the drinks and sat the bags at his feet before going around to the driver’s side to get in. “I’ll go in and get us a room,” he told Sam as he pulled back out onto the road and drove a little further down the road. “Once we eat, we are going to talk Sammy.” Dean could feel Sam tense when he said that, but he was not letting their talk wait any longer. He knew it needed to happen so they could move past the awkwardness and distrust stage.

It did not take Dean long to go into the motel office, register and get the room key. He came back out and moved the car behind the office to a parking space in front of their room. He got out and took the food bags and let Sam carry the drinks. Dean deposited the bags on a table and went back out to get their bags. Sam was opening the cartons of food and dividing them when Dean came back inside and dropped their bags on the queen size beds.

“Smells good,” Dean commented when he sat down in one of the chairs at the table. 

“I guess,” Sam shrugged sitting a drink near Dean and opened his carton to see what he had. Dean had gotten him a grilled chicken breast, baked potato, a side salad, and a slice of pie. He found the dressing and had to admit Dean did good getting what he would usually eat. He did not look up as he mixed his salad and took a small bite. He was not that hungry when he drank the blood but felt he should eat so Dean would not question him about it. He looked over at Dean’s food seeing he had a double bacon cheeseburger, steak fries and a large piece of pie. He heard Dean humming to himself as he chewed his first bite and it dawned on him this was probably the first real food he had since dying five months ago and swallowed wondering what Dean had to endure while he was in Hell. 

“This is awesome,” Dean said taking another big bite of his burger before sipping some iced tea marveling with the sweetness. He kept an eye on Sam, watching him move his food around and occasionally taking a bite, but he did not seem hungry. He did not know if he was trying to prolong the meal to delay their talk. He continued to eat, trying to enjoy the food, and let Sam be in his mood for now.

**spn**

Sam knew he could not put it off any longer and closed the container of food he did not eat and put it in the mini fridge. Dean had already finished and threw his trash away and stepped into the bathroom to use it. Sam looked around when Dean came back out and waited to see what he did. Sam stood between the chairs and bed giving each a glance, not sure where to go.

“You want to use the bathroom before we start?” Dean asked him, noticing Sam seemed nervous. 

“Yeah, sure,” Sam nodded before stepping into the bathroom and closing the door. He leaned back against the door for a moment before moving to the sink and bracing against it. He looked into the mirror at his reflection and could see the doubt and uncertainty in his eyes. Sam stepped to the commode and used it, then back to the sink to wash his hands and splashed cold water on his face. He grabbed a towel to dry his face and hands knowing he had to go face his brother.

Dean had settled on one of the beds, using his pillows for support as he leaned against the headboard. He had turned off the overhead light and had on the lamp between their beds. Dean had shed his boots and clothes and put on some sweats to be comfortable. Sam saw this and went to his pack to find his own sweats to change into. He toed off his boots and undid his loose fitting jeans, letting them drop to his ankles and stepped from them. He slipped on his sweats and turned to look at Dean again. Dean had been watching Sam as he changed and saw how leaner his body seemed. When he saw Sam look at him, Dean nodded toward the other bed to let him know to have a seat.

Sam moved to his bed and pulled the pillows out to get comfortable, leaning back against the headboard. 

“Alright, where do you want to start?” Dean asked once Sam was settled. “You want to ask some questions, or should I just talk? And then you can talk. But Sammy, I want you to be honest with me and I will be with you. Deal?”

Sam looked down at his clenched hands nodding yes and licked his lips as he tried to decide what to say or ask. He wanted to delay sharing his story for as long as possible. He finally let out the breath he did not know he was holding and asked.

“What happened to you Dean? I mean after you…After you died?” he asked softly, darting his eyes up to look at Dean before dropping them again.

“I woke up in Hell,” Dean stated in a dull voice. “Words can’t describe what I went through, so I’m not going to try. When you’re in Hell, you don’t need to eat or drink or sleep. Not sure why, maybe so you won’t die those ways. You don’t know one day to the next and there’s no sunlight at all, no night or day. I never knew how much I’d miss sunlight and seeing the stars at night until…” Dean paused in talking and let his mind wander for a moment thinking of the times they had watched the stars resting on the Impala drinking beers. 

“You were tortured, weren’t you?” Sam asked, his voice barely audible.

“Yeah, it was torture like you could never imagine. The demons have had hundreds of years to practice after all,” Dean huffs and noticed the puzzled look on Sam’s face. 

“Years?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, ‘cause months here on earth are like decades down there. I was shocked to see only five months had passed up here when it was like almost fifty years in Hell. I was afraid you wouldn’t be alive or would be some gray haired, stooped old man. Guess it’s a different time flow or something,” he shrugged. “The bad thing was, they’d work you over and then when they were tired of slicing and dicing, they’d kill you. Then like magic you were alive again and put back together all shiny and new so the torture could begin again.” Dean looked off into the room pausing for a moment before continuing. “It never let up, week after week, month after month, year after year…And during all that time, the screams and wails of other souls would drive you insane. After twenty years, I was offered a choice, I could get off the rack if I would start torturing the souls in Hell. Every single time I told them to stick it where the sun don’t shine,” he spat madly. “This went on for so many years I lost count. After a while, you know, it starts to wear you down, the endless rounds of torture and dying and coming back. It started eating at my soul, little by little and I couldn’t stop it, the changing had begun…Right before I escaped…I was losing any hope of it ever ending…Sammy, I was ready to give up…I was going do it…Torture…” Dean had to stop as his voice cracked and his throat tightened to where he couldn’t speak. He looked away and swatted at a tear that trickled down his cheek. 

Sam sat still as he listened to Dean talk about what he had gone through. He knew he was only telling him the basic details and horrible images of what he might have gone through flashed through his mind. He could hear the pain, anguish, and agony in his voice and fought back the sobs that were building inside of him. Sam started withdrawing in on himself because he knew all of Dean’s suffering was because of him. Dean made a deal with a crossroads demon when he was killed at Cold Oak and Sam could not break the deal to stop Dean from going to Hell. The guilt and depression were beginning to weigh him down and he did not know if he could hear anymore.

Tears were already filling his eyes and he blinked them away so he could see. He could not stop the hitched sobs that were building in his throat. Dean’s voice was getting strained and cracking as he stopped talking. Sam looked over at him and saw how torn up he was and how much he was struggling to keep his promise of honesty for him. He got up and went to him and wrapped his arms around Dean’s body, holding him tight. At first Dean resisted his touch, but then he returned the hug, clinging to Sam as they both silently cried. 

Dean was the first to pull away and wiped his face before saying, “Why don’t we turn in and continue this tomorrow. Enough of the chick flick crap. I haven’t slept much, at least in this body, in nearly fifty years and I’m running on empty right now.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam managed to get out as he stood and moved back to his bed. He pulled the covers down and slipped between them, adjusting his pillows so he could use them. He watched his brother stand to pull the covers on his bed back but pause as he ran a hand over the soft sheets for a moment before laying down. Sam could not help it; he buried his face into his pillow to hide the sobs of his crying. His brother had sacrificed so much for him but what was he going to think when he found out what he had been doing? He listened to Dean moving around trying to get comfortable until he finally stilled. Sam had a lot to think about before tomorrow came and did not know if he would be able to sleep.

“Nite Sammy,” Dean whispered softly.

“Nite Dean,” Sam replied trying to keep his voice steady as he said it. He waited silently, listening to Dean’s breathing even out as he went to sleep. Being careful not to make any noise, Sam slipped from the bed and grabbed his jacket before stepping into the bathroom. Sam had one more call to make and dialed a number he had not used in a long time. He listened to it ring, waiting for it to be answered.

_“Hello,”_ a gruff male voice finally answered.

“Hey Bobby, it’s Sam,” Sam replied in a soft, warm voice trying to be quiet.

_“Sam, son, it’s good to hear your voice. How have you been doing?”_

“I’m okay. I’ve got some good news…” he started and tried to word his next sentences carefully.

_“What Sam? What’s going on?”_

“Dean’s back Bobby. He found me at the motel I was staying at. We’re going to be heading your way.”

There was silence at the other end of the line because Bobby was not sure he had heard right. How could Dean be back from Hell? 

“I know Bobby, I was shocked too, but it is him. There are some things you need to know, but I don’t want to get into it over the phone. Bobby, it was only five months for us, right?” Sam questioned wanting to be sure but did not wait for Bobby to answer. “But Dean said he was in Hell for fifty years and it was all because of me.”

_“Sam, you can’t go blaming yerself for what Dean did. You know he did it out of love and desperation to save you. You just watch yerself son. If he were gone that long…Well, I don’t know…That would change anyone, even your brother.”_

“Yeah, gotta go, I don’t want Dean to know I called. I’ll call you later,” Sam said quickly disconnecting the call and cracking the door to check that Dean was still asleep. He eased from the room and slipped back into bed, not knowing Dean had heard him get up and knew he made a call. Sam got comfortable and forced himself to rest knowing morning would be here soon.

* * *

**A/N: The brothers are back together, and their stories are being told. Thank you for taking this journey with me. Comments do make my day. NC**


	10. Chapter 10

It took Sam several hours before he finally drifted into a restless sleep and dreamed of the day that Dean was dragged to Hell by the hellhounds. Unimaginable scenes of Dean being tortured ran through his mind and he tossed and turned and cried out in his mind for it all to stop, to take him instead, to let his brother go.

A piercing, agonizing, cry had Sam springing from his bed to defend himself and his brother. He looked frantically around the dimly lit room but did not see any danger and heard whimpering coming from the other bed. He tried to see by the light shining through the partly opened door of the bathroom. Sam could make out Dean twitching and rolling his head as he moaned softly in pain.

Sam stepped to his brother’s bed and sat down on the edge and placed his trembling hand on Dean’s arm as he whispers, “Hush now…it’s okay bro…You’re safe, you’re safe.” Sam gently rubbed his hand up and down Dean’s arm until suddenly Dean grabbed his hand in a steely tight grip and glared at him with unseeing eyes. Sam could tell he was not awake and tried to sooth him by humming an old Beatles song that Dean used to sing to him.

Slowly, Dean’s grip loosened, and Sam pulled his hand free moving his fingers to be sure they were not broken. He watched Dean settle on the pillow and close his eyes as he drifted back to sleep. Sam stayed beside him for nearly an hour, lulling him into peaceful sleep. He knew Dean had to have been dreaming of Hell and what he had gone through there. Sam felt wetness on his face and had not realized he had been crying. He wiped his face and carefully got up to go back to his bed. It was still early, and Sam wanted to let Dean sleep as long as he could.

After using the bathroom, Sam got back in bed and tried to relax hoping he could maybe get a couple more hours of sleep. He was still exhausted from everything that had happened and knew he needed the rest to face the upcoming morning. He had not decided what he was going to tell Dean when it was his turn to talk. Sam saw how honest and forthcoming Dean had been with him for the most part, and he felt guilty that he did not think he could do the same. He rolled onto his side and punched his pillow trying to get comfortable. Sam looked over at Dean through half closed eyes and saw he was still sleeping quietly. He zoned in on his steady breathing and let the familiar sound lull him into a light sleep. This time he did not dream and got some needed rest.

**spn**

Sam rolled over and started stretching while rubbing his eyes so he could see. It was lighter in the room now and he saw the other bed was empty. Sam sat up quickly in a panic until he heard the shower running in the other room. He let out a long breath as he worked on slowing his heartbeat and breathing. He listened closely when noises echoed in the bathroom and Sam smiled when he realized Dean was singing in the shower. He chuckled and moved to sit on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through his hair trying to make it lay down and massaged his temples as the dull pain of a headache wanted to start. 

He went over to the chair and picked up the same clothes he had on the day before and put them on. Sam was going to have to work in doing some laundry maybe today. He did not know how long Dean intended on staying here and a thought crossed his mind, he wondered where he got the money to pay for their dinner and for this room. It was several steps up from what he had been staying in these past months and knew it was not cheap. That was another question to add to his growing list that he was compiling in his head. Sam stopped for a moment when he wondered what questions Dean might have for him once he told his story.

“Good, you’re up,” Dean noted when he stepped from the bathroom in a cloud of steam.

Sam jumped when he spoke and quickly turned around to see him freshly showered and in clean clothes. 

“Yeah, ummm…How did you sleep?” Sam asked trying to hide his nervousness. He folded his sweats and stuffed them into his duffle. 

“I gotta say, it took a little adjusting to after being on the cold, hard, steel of the rack for so long,” Dean shrugged not realizing how the snippet cut into Sam. He did not see Sam’s face drop or the hurt in his eyes since he quickly turned away from him. “How ‘bout we go get some breakfast first and maybe pick up a six pack on the way back? They serve breakfast all day at the diner. We’ve still got some talking to do.”

“Sure,” Sam replied putting a neutral expression on his face as he sat down to put his boots on. He had looked at his watch and saw it was later in the morning than he thought.

“When we get back, if you want to do a load of laundry, they have a couple of machines for guests to use,” Dean offered as if he read Sam’s mind about dirty clothes.

“That would be good,” Sam nodded getting up and looking for his jacket. “Dean, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, sure, what?” Dean asked looking up from tying the laces on his boots.

“You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to, but I know you had no money on you when I buried you. So, how are you paying for all this?”

“Demon credit card.”

Sam did a double take with what Dean said, his mouth falling open for a moment before he clamped it back shut.

“What?” he asked in confusion not thinking he heard him right.

“That’s part of my story, if you can wait until we get back from breakfast, I’ll finish it.”

“Alright, I can wait,” Sam replied letting Dean go out first and followed him pulling the door closed behind them. His only thought was he had bought himself a little more time.

Dean started walking across the parking lot toward a diner that was down the street instead of driving. Sam fell into step with him and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he squinted with the morning light. The sky was overcast, so the absence of bright sunlight was a blessing as he dealt with his headache. If it was not better when they got back to the room, he would take something. He hoped maybe eating would ease it.

“Something wrong Sammy?” Dean asked as he held the door for him to go into the diner. He noticed Sam rubbing his head and he saw pain in his eyes.

“Just a headache, nothing to worry about,” Sam replied. He stopped at the front of the dining room and they waited for a hostess to seat them in a booth near the back of the room and placed menus in front of them.

“Good morning, I’m Helen, I’ll be your waitress. Can I start you out with some coffee?” a middle-aged woman asked them.

“Sound good Helen,” Dean replied. “Make mine hot and strong.”

“Sure thing hon,” she chuckled heading to the drink station to get the coffee. 

Dean turned his cup over and opened the menu to see what specials they had. Sam did the same and unwrapped his silverware, placing it neatly on the placemat. He looked up at the pleasant looking waitress as she came back with a pot of coffee and filled their cups. He nodded his thanks and glanced over the menu. She sat a saucer with small containers of cream in the middle of the table and went to the next table to refill their coffee.

“Are you ready to order or do you need a few more minutes?” Helen asked coming back around.

“We’re ready, I’ll have the Meat Lover’s Special with bacon, scrambled eggs and hash browns,” Dean recited to her.

“And for you, hon?” she asked Sam.

“Ummm…Could I get an egg white omelette with vegetables, short stack and fruit bowl,” Sam told her closing the menu and handing it to her. “And can I get a glass of water too?”

“Of course, I’ll get your order in and get that water for you.” She went to the window of the kitchen and slipped the order on the wheel and went to get Sam’s water.

They did not have to wait too long before Helen brought their food and divided it between them. She refreshed their coffee and checked to see if anything else was needed before moving on to wait on other patrons.

“Bacon, come to papa,” Dean whispered as he picked up a slice and bit it in half and moaned with delight. “You don’t know what you’re missing Sammy.”

“A heart attack?” Sam asked as he cut into his omelette and took a bite. He sprinkled a little salt and pepper over it and continued to enjoy his meal. His appetite seemed better today at least, and he was glad of that. He thought about the flask that had the demon blood and decided to hold off as long as he could before drinking it. Sam did not know how long Ruby would be gone this time and needed to ration it. 

“Sammy? Earth to Sammy,” Dean said kicking his foot.

“What? Yes,” Sam replied not realizing Dean had been asking him something.

“I said, they have subs here, why don’t we get a couple and we won’t have to come out for lunch. It’ll probably be afternoon before we’ll be hungry again anyway. That’ll give us time to finish our talk,” Dean repeated looking at Sam closely.

“Okay, that’s fine,” Sam agreed keeping his eyes on his plate as he speared a piece of fruit. 

They finished their meal and ordered two subs to go. Helen brought their subs with the bill and wished them a good day and to come back. Dean let Sam take the bag of subs so he could pay at the front.

“Why don’t you go on to the room and I’ll walk across to the convenience store and grab a six pack and some snacks for later?” Dean told Sam holding out the room key. “You want a soda or something else?”

“Okay, maybe a green tea and a couple of granola bars,” Sam said. He took the key and continued to the motel while Dean walked down and crossed the road to the store. After Sam got back into the room, he slipped the subs into the fridge and pulled his cell out to see if Ruby had sent a text. When he did not see one, Sam sent another one to her hoping she would get back to him soon. He stepped into the bathroom and as he came out, he heard rapping at the door. Sam went to open it and allowed Dean to enter.

“You wanna go throw your clothes in to wash? The machines are at the end of the rooms on the right,” Dean told him motioning in that direction.

“Yeah, do you have any to wash?”

“Nope, haven’t been topside long enough to mess any up. I got some quarters for you.”

“Thanks,” Sam replied taking the offered coins. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Take your time, we have all day. I got the room for a couple of days so we would have time to get everything out in the open between us.”

Sam picked up his duffle and the room key before leaving and followed Dean’s directions and found the machines. He dumped out his clothes into a wheeled cart and sorted them into two loads. After buying detergent, he got the machines started and headed back to the room with his empty duffle. Sam checked the time, so he would know when to come check on them and put them in the dryers. 

He tried not to tense and get nervous as he paused outside of their room. He could hear the television inside the room and knew he could not put it off any longer. They needed to finish this so they could decide what was next for them. He wanted to hear the rest of Dean’s story and how he got out of Hell. What he did was a feat no one else but their Dad and the other souls had accomplished when the Devil’s Gate was opened.

Then, it would be his turn to tell his story and he had to tread carefully and decide what to tell Dean. 

* * *

**A/N: They have upgraded their accommodations and finishing their stories. I do like comments. NC**


	11. Chapter 11

Dean looked toward the door when it opened fifteen minutes later, and Sam let himself back into the room. He had taken off his boots and made himself comfortable on his bed to watch television until he came back. He saw the apprehension on Sam’s face and wondered if it was for him or the story Sam was about to tell.

“You wanna join me over here so we don’t have to shout to talk?” Dean asked sitting up and adjusting his pillows so he could lean back against the headboard as Sam stopped in the middle of the room not sure what to do. He muted the television and waited for Sam to grab a pillow off his bed and sit down on the other side of his bed and settle. “Okay, where did I leave off?”

“You were about to give up,” Sam filled in thinking back on the words from the day before. He needed to remember to ask him what he meant about changing if he did not by the time he was done.

“Yeah. I don’t even want to think about how close I came to that. If I had started torturing souls, I know I could never forgive myself and I would probably have been lost for good. I could never come back from that.” Dean’s voice got quieter at the end as he turned away from Sam for a moment so he could reign in his emotions to continue. “A demon snuck in to see me and said he could get me out of there and to not give in. Just the idea that there might be a way out helped me hold on to that seed of hope for just a little while longer.”

“You’re kidding right? Why would a demon help you?” Sam blurred out in shock before he could stop himself.

“No idea, but he didn’t do it out of the kindness of his heart. I’m sure he was only looking out for number one and had an ulterior motive for doing it. He was one arrogant, three piece suit wearing, English douche bag, but he came through. Said he was the King of the Crossroads Demons who goes by the name Crowley. He stole a dead body for me to use to…”

“Wait, dead body? You possessed…A dead body?” Sam gasped, not understanding Dean’s words. “Why would you need to do that?”

“Look, how ‘bout letting me get through this and then ask your questions?” Dean huffed. “It’ll make it go easier and faster.”

“Okay, sorry,” Sam mumbled trying to wrap his head around the fact Dean said he possessed a dead body. If he could do that could he possess a live one too? Was his brother a demon now? Is that what he was trying to tell him?

“Anyway, I couldn’t get out of there in the Hell manifested body, so he found another one and did a spell that put my soul into the other body. At least it was a dead one, because I made it clear to him, I wasn’t possessing some poor live victim, even to get out of there. Damn bastard had to kill me to do it,” he muttered in disgust. “When I woke in the other body, Crowley gave me the coordinates to where _my body_ was, the spell so I could transfer my soul back into it, a change of clothes, a cell phone, and he gave me the credit card I’ve been using to pay for things. Said it would be good for a month. He used his pet hellhound to lead me to a hell gate that deposited me in a national forest in Kentucky. I still can’t believe he had a pet hellhound. I hitched a ride to the nearest town and stole a car to head west. I found where my body was buried, and it was nice Sammy, you did good there. I dug it up and did the spell putting my soul back into this body. I buried the other body there. I found an internet café and tracked your cell to find you and here we are,” Dean huffed. “You need to know Sammy, what happened to me in Hell, it _did_ change me, how couldn’t it, but I’m still your brother and I care about you.”

“Changed you how? I saw what holy water did to you…” Sam trailed off as he looked at Dean. “Christo,” he said and watched as Dean’s eyes seem to darken slightly for a moment but did not turn completely black.

“What happened?” Dean asked curious to know.

“They…They changed a little, darkened some. Are you a demon?” Sam asked not believing he was asking the question.

“Not completely. My soul did start to change, but I still have some humanity left too. I guess you could say I’m a hybrid. Holy water feels like a bad sunburn, it hurts like hell to smoke out and I really don’t want to do it again if I can help it. I can see a demon’s true form in their meatsuit, seems I can heal, and I’m stronger than before. That’s it so far, but I guess that’s enough. I hope you can accept me as I am now.”

Sam bit his lower lip and let everything sink in that Dean told him. His brother was some hybrid demon because of him. How was he going to live with that? This was all on him and he couldn’t do anything to change it. He jerked away when Dean reached a hand to touch his arm.

“You know, why don’t I give you some space for a little while?” Dean said getting up to slip on his boots, not taking time to tie them. “I know it’s a lot to process Sammy.” Dean headed out the door, leaving Sam sitting on the bed watching him leave and not stopping him.

Sam could kick himself for letting Dean leave like that. Why did he pull away from him? Sam cussed himself for being so insensitive to Dean’s ordeal and the suffering he had gone through. It had been for him, all of it, and he just made him feel like shit. He knew Dean tried to hide his hurt, but he saw it before he left. He clenched his jaw and cussed his actions, thinking Dean had endured the worst possible torture all for him and he just rejected him.

**spn**

The weather outside was sunny with an occasional fluffy cloud passing over the sun dimming the brightness for a few minutes. Dean walked by the Impala and looked around for a moment seeing a grassy area off to the right of the motel and strolled that way. He was acutely aware of all the sounds around him, taking it all in, even the rumbling and roar of the vehicles on the road in front of the motel. 

There were picnic tables sitting randomly around in the grass with a few tall trees giving shade. He took a seat at one of the tables and leaned back putting his elbows on the top, closing his eyes, and just breathing the air, taking in every scent he could smell. He listened to the birds chirping, squirrels chattering, music filtering in from vehicles on the road, the closing of doors at the motel, and snatches of conversation from people. So much of this he had taken for granted before, and now even the little things stood out to him. 

He looked up through the tree branches and watched a breeze rustle the leaves as rays of sunlight found their way down to the ground. Dean’s eyes were drawn to several Monarch butterflies that were flitting around and landing on flowers planted in beds along the edge of the grass. It was so calm and relaxing he could almost forget what was going on between him and Sam. Both had their stories to tell, and both had been changed by what each went through in the past, five months for Sam, and fifty years for Dean. He didn’t blame Sam for rejecting him after he found out what he was. What was going to happen now, he didn’t know, but hoped Sam could see past it and accept him.

**spn**

Sam was shaking by the time he walked down to the laundry room and went inside. He leaned against the washer and drew in some long, deep breaths to calm himself. He opened the machine and began to pull the clothes from it and moved the cart to a dryer. He filled it and put in the quarters to start it. Sam repeated the steps with the other washer and checked the time when they would be done. 

He pulled his cell out to check if he had any text but did not. Sam did not know how long Dean’s walk would be and it just made him feel all the more tense and nervous. He should have stopped him and gotten this over with, but maybe Dean was right, he needed a little time to process what Dean had told him. He took his time in the laundry room standing there watching the clothes roll around in the dryers trying to get his mind to calm and see Dean for who he was, his brother.

Dean was drinking a bottle of water when Sam let himself back into the room. Thinking a drink sounded good, he got a tea from the fridge and sat back down on the bed. He could feel Dean’s eyes on him, but he did not say anything as he waited for Sam to sit back down.

“It’s your turn Sammy,” Dean told him in a calm, steady voice. “What happened to you after I died? Why didn’t you stay with Bobby?”

“After Lilith let the hellhounds in and they attacked and killed you, she tried to kill me but couldn’t. I don’t know why or how, but her powers didn’t work on me. She was as surprised as I was and I started to attack her, but she smoked out and disappeared. I’m so sorry Dean, that I couldn’t save you…I would have taken your place if I could have…” Sam’s voice quivered as he fought the tears. “Hell, I tried to. I summoned crossroads demons for weeks, I tried, but no one would deal with me. They said they had the right Winchester, and I was off limits. I couldn’t stay at Bobby’s; it was too hard. Everything reminded me of you and the walls just seemed to close in on me. I left and for the first week or two after that…I was drunk most of the time…I mourned and grieved for you…I was ready to end it but got word Lilith was still topside and I started hunting her. I wanted to end her for what she did to you, I still do,” he growled angrily. “I still have visions like I did before you…left and I learned how to pull demons from victims with my mind and send them back to hell. I know it sounds freaky, but I’ve saved a lot of possessed people Dean. At least the ones who bodies weren’t already dead because the demons rode them so hard, they didn’t survive. I was still out there saving people, hunting, trying to carry on without you. That’s what I was doing when you found me, following a lead on Lilith. My five months seems like nothing now compared to your ordeal.”

“Is that all?” Dean asked giving him an opening to tell him about the other stuff he knew about.

“Yeah,” Sam said looking down at his hands as he worried the hem of his shirt. “It was only five months for me where it was a hella lot longer for you. I tried to lay low.” He felt guilty not telling Dean the rest, after Dean was honest with him, but could not bring himself to do it. Dean had been through so much and if he told him about the blood and Ruby, Sam was sure he would not take it well. After all his suffering, to learn Sam had been having sex with a demon and drinking her blood might completely destroy their relationship. He was not sure Dean would want to stay with him if he knew.

“I think I’ll go find a bar and get a drink,” Dean told Sam thinking he needed the space this time. He did not understand why Sam was hiding things still after he was open and honest with him. He decided not to push Sam for fear he would take off. He would bide his time and watch him closely. At least Ruby was out of the picture and could not manipulate him anymore or feed him her blood. Again, Sam did not stop him from leaving and Dean wasn’t sure if that was a bad or good sign.

Dean got in the Impala and pulled from the parking lot to head toward a small town that was a few miles away. He just wanted to drive a bit and calm down. He figured there had to be a bar somewhere opened now since it was afternoon now. He drove on autopilot as his mind mulled over Sam’s reaction after he finished his story. Was he rejecting him? Did he see him as a monster?

It was not long before Dean was cruising down what looked like the main street of the small town and finally spotted a bar sitting back from the other businesses. It had a gravel parking lot, and the building was made of weathered wood. He pulled into the lot and parked among several other vehicles and a couple of motorcycles and got out.

Dean pushed open door and stopped so his eyes could adjust to the dimness of the room, somewhat surprised to find it was not necessary anymore, before moving on in and taking a seat at the bar. He glanced around at the other patrons who ignored him and did not see any trouble as the bartender headed his way.

“What can I get you?” he asked wiping the spot in front of Dean before laying a napkin down.

“Beer and shot of Jack,” Dean ordered licking his lips with anticipation wondering if the whiskey and beer would taste the same. 

“Coming right up.” He sat a shot glass by the napkin and reached for the Jack Daniel’s behind him to pour a shot and then reached into the cooler for a beer that he sat on the napkin, as he gathered the payment. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks,” Dean nodded looking at the drinks for a moment before picking up the shot glass and tossing it back. He closed his eyes as the intense burn started at the back of his throat and slowly ran down it to his stomach. He followed it was a sip of beer and sighed contently. Yep, it still tasted just as good. He waved to the bartender for another shot and took his time with this one. Dean did not want to get drunk since they were not through talking. He wanted to be clear headed enough to hear Sam’s story.

The pool tables were empty, and Dean took his beer to one and sat it down so he could rack the balls. He wanted to see if he was rusty after fifty years or would it all come back to him. He grabbed a pool cue and placed the white ball at the end on the felt table. He chalked the cue and leaned over lining up the shot. Dean took his time as he moved the cue back and forth until he hit the ball sending it racing toward the triangle of balls. There was a loud whack when the ball hit the others and Dean glanced around to be sure no one was watching. He needed to learn to control the extra strength he had now, he thought as several of the balls dropped into cups around the table. He moved to take his next shot and paid extra attention to how hard he hit the white ball this time.

“Want a game?” a young guy asked stopping at the table.

Dean looked up at the guy and figured why not. “Sure, why not?”

“Want to make it a little more fun and bet on it?” he asked pulling a pool cue from the rack on the wall.

“I don’t know, wouldn’t feel right taking your money.”

“You think you’re that good?”

“I have played a few games over the years.”

“Fifty says I can beat you.”

“It’s your loss. I’ll even let you go first.” Dean took his beer and stepped back from the table as the guy set the balls in the rack and centered them. He took the white ball and moved to the other end of the table and prepared to shoot. 

Dean studied him carefully and could tell he knew what he was doing but did not think he was that good. He watched the ball smack into the others and break up the triangle.

“Looks like I’m striped,” the guy said moving to take his next shot. He got two more balls in before missing a shot.

“Okay, guess it’s my turn,” Dean said. He moved around the table looking at the solid balls working out his shots. One by one each ball went into a pocket. He smiled as the last ball went in and looked to the downfallen face of the guy he was playing. Words filled his mind _, ‘how am I going to explain losing the grocery money, especially when we need diapers and formula,’_ and Dean looked at the fifty laying on the corner. He could not take the guy’s money, it wasn’t right. “You know what?” Dean said. “I can’t take your money, I think you need it more than I do. Go on to the store; get your groceries,” Dean told him laying another twenty with the cash before walking away toward the door, his steps feeling just a bit lighter.

“Hey, thanks man,” the guy said in disbelief. He picked up the money deciding to do what Dean said and headed for the door too. He was not going to make this mistake again. He had a family that needed him and was not going to let them down. 

* * *

**A/N: The brother’s stories have been told and each are dealing with them in them own way. How long can Sam keep his secret from Dean? Thank you for taking this journey with me. I do like comments. NC**


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